


Tomorrow's Yesterday is Always Today

by Hey_Diddle_Diddle25



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Protectiveness, not necessarily in that order
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 05:00:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 120,096
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10914834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hey_Diddle_Diddle25/pseuds/Hey_Diddle_Diddle25
Summary: Victor is a superhero, Yuuri is a supervillian, and Yuri is caught somewhere in the middle. Sharing an apartment complicates things.





	1. All These Superheroes and We're Broke

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that's been stuck in my head for a while now. Then it expanded into a monster too big to just toss out. Most of the show has been changed, and mind the tags.
> 
> Like always, hope you can find yourself to enjoy.

The door opened, slammed shut.

Victor glanced up from his spot on the couch, Makkachin still snoring softly from where he was curled up underneath Victor’s legs. The poodle didn’t even flinch at the noise- a true testament to just how frequently Yuri’s moods struck him- as Victor lazily flipped to the next page of his book.

From the quick glimpse he saw, Yuri looked like he normally did. The plastic rings in the store bags were looped around his thin arms as he moved from living room to kitchen. He was stomping his feet- which was strange- and hadn’t taken his shoes off at the door- which was wrong.

“How was the grocery run?” Victor asked casually, book still open in his hands but he was no longer paying any attention to what the words said.

Yuri didn’t reply, and that was when Victor realized something serious was bothering the youth. Yuri never missed the opportunity to throw some sort of insult or remark about how useless Victor was at the older man. Victor never took any offense to it, still remembered the day the greatest superhero of all time showed up at his doorstep with a prudent ten-year-old child trailing behind him.

“This is Victor,” Nikolai had informed the child not unkindly, “He’s going to take care of you from now on.”

Yuri had just nodded at the time, small hands still squeezing at his grandfather’s sleeve as he asked in a small tentative voice, “You’ll come back for me soon though, right?”

Nikolai had nodded, ruffling pale hair before planting a kiss somewhere amongst it and promised, “Soon.”

Soon came and soon went.

Nikolai never returned.

He was still alive, of course, living somewhere in Moscow and from what Victor’s heard it’s gotten really bad. It wasn’t a wonder why he wished to get his last living relative out as quickly as he had, but it still must have been hard for ten-year-old Yuri, who’d already lost both his parents to this lifestyle.

“Do you need any help?” Victor asked next because that felt a little more direct, and Yuri could only dodge him for so long.

The response Victor received was the sound of one of the bags tipping over before all of its contents spilled over the tabletop and onto the wooden floor. Yuri cursed softly, Victor setting his book on the table as he turned to see the kid crouched over the scattered oranges and potatoes as he gathered them in his arms.

“Yuri?” Victor inquired shifting from sitting to standing with the silent grace of a swan, but Yuri didn’t acknowledge his presence as he grabbed another bag from under the sink to dump his burden in.

Something _serious_ then, and that realization was enough to send something acidic to twist the insides of Victor’s stomach. Dark images and even darker thoughts raced through Victor’s brain for a moment before he swallowed, regaining his grasp on reality.

Yuri was fine- he made it back home to him. He was alive and relatively unharmed, though five years living with him Victor realized Yuri knew how to hide those sorts of things from him when he wanted.

He can’t hide pain, though. It’s the one thing Victor’s always able to pick up on because the thought of Yuri hiding pain from him is enough to make Victor’s vision whiten, and he’s always afraid of what’s waiting for him when his vision clears once more because pain means another person was involved. That someone else had caused harm to the teenager, and Victor sees people in peril all the time, but Yuri in danger awakens a terribly dark instinct burrowed away beneath the usual careless charm Victor carries with him.

Maybe that had been why Nikolai picked Victor five years ago when he could’ve chosen someone who wasn’t like him- that didn’t hold the same lifestyle he was obviously trying to keep his grandson in- and Victor wasn’t sure if he liked the fact that he understood Nikolai on that perspective. That, in terms of rude teenagers, they were synchronized.

He couldn’t imagine a life without Yuri in it, which was only part of the reason that when Yuri moved to open a cabinet to put the sugar in Victor snuck up behind him and captured his lithe frame. His fingers looped easily around his wrist- a concern if Victor hadn’t seen the kid _eat_ before- while his other hand pressed firmly against the side of Yuri’s hip.

By some unforeseen nature, Victor was an openly affectionate person. It was perhaps one of the major factors on why Yuri was not, which was probably why the teenager thought that when Victor touched or held him that wasn’t a hug it didn’t mean much. It was just Victor being Victor- and though he’s not technically wrong he’s not correct on that assumption.

When Victor holds him like this he’s checking places that’s easy to cover up. When he holds the boy’s hips he’s not trying to seduce the kid into doing anything foolish or irresponsible with him but making sure no one else has either, and Yuri didn’t flinch away like he was in pain or hiding anything.

He tensed, muscles constricting and not releasing, as he froze against Victor’s touch. Victor didn’t move, didn’t release him, as he allowed himself to relax fractionally at the realization that Yuri wasn’t upset because he’d been mugged on his way to the grocery store.

“ _What_ do you think you are doing?” Yuri growled enunciating each word with a hiss as Victor drew the body closer to him, burrowing his nose in the pale hair and reminding himself that the kid was there and safe and not physically injured- though that still left the mystery on what could be upsetting him.

He was still dressed in his school uniform so Victor supposed school could’ve been a major factor. Yuri didn’t make friends easily, stood out because he looked more feminine than masculine. Victor did as well- had always used that to his advantage- but Yuri constantly tried covering it up which only made him stick out more.

Not to mention that he wasn’t born, raised, or even had visited St Petersburg before they were suddenly dumped on each other, and outsiders stuck out- especially in high school where kids were unusually cruel and cliquish and new kids hardly ever lasted- and it wouldn’t have been the first time Yuri came home angry about something trivial that happened.

This anger was different. This anger wasn’t sporadic or childish- it was real, pulsing with the beat of his heart and making his eyes burn brighter than any star Victor’s ever seen. Victor hated it- had seen it on victim’s faces he’s rescued, the ones that had given up hope on anyone finding them but refusing to be broken by their captors.

Yuri wasn’t gone, and it didn’t matter where someone would take him if they tried. Victor would rip all of Russia apart if that’s what it took until he found the kid. He’d burn it down, despite his disdain for fire, and he wouldn’t stop- wouldn’t rest- until the kid was back with him. Then he’d make those who tried to take him pay, and it wouldn’t come as a surprise if someone had to step in to stop him- so it was a really good thing Yuri wasn’t gone.

He was still angry, and Victor was no closer at figuring out _why_ though.

“Yura?” Victor murmured as he reminded himself that Yuri being there was real and whatever was troubling him Victor could fix- would fix even if it killed him- he just needed to figure out what that was.

Yuri twisted in his hold, and Victor knew if he really wanted to he could keep it. Then he’d be pining the kid against the counters, which he didn’t want. He never wanted to force Yuri into anything, so Yuri escaped relatively easy.

Sea foam eyes sparkled back at him, narrowed and furious and worried about something Victor still didn’t know. Victor didn’t like that- any of it- and wished the teenager still didn’t close him off when it came to things bothering him.

“What? Why are you looking at me like I killed your mutt? He’s still sleeping where he always does,” Yuri snapped flippantly, hands curling into fists around the countertop behind him as he pressed most of his weight against it as he tried getting as much distance between them as possible.

Victor huffed at the jab against Makkachin, never appreciated it when Yuri used him as a means to get at Victor but that was probably why he did it. It was also another sign that whatever had Yuri so upset was serious and definitely something Victor needed to know.

“First of all,” Victor replied slowly making sure to phrase his words carefully, “Makkachin isn’t a mutt. He’s a pure bred and perfect in every single way,” Yuri rolled his eyes but didn’t offer any counter arguments, “and, secondly, I know when you’re dodging my questions.”

“What questions?” Yuri demanded sounding shrill and cornered as he curled his shoulders in on himself defensively, “You’ve only impeded me at putting away the groceries and smell my hair like a creepy weirdo.”

Victor smiled at the kid- sad and soft and loving- as he inquired, “Would you like to start with how your day’s been or do you just want to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Yuri turned his head away as he admitted softly, “I punched the self-check-out machine because my stupid card maxed out again.”

Victor’s chest loosened because that was so painfully average. If it was anyone but Yuri he’d probably get angry too, making him worry about something so mundane.

“Take mine next time,” he shrugged like it was nothing, but Yuri was already shaking his head so there was probably _something_ he’s still missing.

“Yours maxed out last week so I called the bank. We’re broke, Victor, and grandpa’s had to start going to the doctor to see about his back,” Yuri explained, “Not to mention our bills and rent and the fact that winter is practically here, and the _cold_ might not bother you but it definitely bothers everyone else.”

 _Money_.

Yuri was fifteen and worrying about money because Victor really sucked at this whole guardian thing- had grown too accustomed to being roommates and just that.

Before he got a chance to reply there was a loud piercing sound that echoed around the small apartment. Yuri’s eyes flickered in the direction of Victor’s room, face growing long and sad as realization filtered in.

“I can stay,” Victor offered vaguely remembering some promise he made about a Disney marathon once Yuri came home from school and he deserved the chance to act like a child.

Yuri shook his head, eyes reflecting a sadness he’ll never verbally admit is there, as he reminded in a soft whisper, “People depend on you. I washed your suit. It should be in your closet.”

Victor reached out to ruffle Yuri’s hair as he whispered softly, “I’ll be home before dinner, and I’ll place an ad for a new roommate tomorrow,” before he moved away.

Yuri followed him, sputtering at the thought of sharing the place with another person and _why couldn’t Victor get a job like normal people?_ Except Victor wasn’t normal and was the only hero St. Petersburg had and couldn’t neglect _all_ his responsibilities.

 _Only the ones that mattered_ , a small traitorous voice piped up from the back of his head and Victor spun around so he could capture Yuri against him.

“A new roommate can help with the bills and rent and food,” Victor argued and he knew it was the most sensible answer but there were so many technicalities he wasn’t even sure it was possible- but he’d continue being optimistic.

“We only have two rooms,” Yuri shot back sounding furious, “Not to mention you literally have a secret double life. That’s not something you can really hide.”

“Those sound like tomorrow’s problems for tomorrow’s me,” Victor chided before planting another kiss against the kid’s temple.

Yuri was glaring at him from underneath his bangs, fists curling and uncurling, as he muttered darkly, “That sounds like you trying to get out of being an adult.”

“I’m not. I promise,” Victor reassured already moving away because the alarm was still ringing, but Yuri was watching him go with a sad expression and it all just seemed so _wrong_.

“I’ll be here when you get back,” Yuri finally just promised as he turned away and moved back to the kitchen and Victor swallowed, nodded before he allowed himself to slip into his bedroom.

He found his phone underneath a pile of clothes Yuri had left neatly folded on Victor’s chair several days with the command for him to actually put it up. Now they were strewn and crumpled, and it was just another reminder on how Victor’s failed at being the responsible adult Yuri deserved.

 _Robbery_ was flashing across the screen in bolded letters, and Victor almost crushed the phone in his hand. He forgot that, whenever Yuri leaves in the morning, he switched it over to alert him to minimum threat level. It was a habit he didn’t want the teenager to know about- especially considering he picked it up after Yuri got attacked once going to the grocery store.

Now it was distracting him from his duties as Yuri’s guardian, and he shivered at the thought of walking back in there to explain that Victor wasn’t really feeling that particular thing so he forced himself to put on his outfit and mask and was out the fire escape in the span of five minutes.

He tried not to think about how he was leaving Yuri by himself while he was still tense about their money situation or how because of the career he chose he had to break yet another promise to the youth or how Yuri didn’t even mention movie night because he knew Victor would’ve dropped it all if he’d only asked.

Sometimes it really sucked having an over mature fifteen-year-old teenager as a roommate while saving the world in his free time.

{…}

Victor didn’t recognize the villain, but it obviously wasn’t a normal robber the police could eventually track and throw away in a cell somewhere. He was short with black hair slicked away from pale features and eyes that smoldered with his ire- not that Victor processed any of that upon first glance.

All he saw was skintight spandex that stuck in all the right places as the figure shook a small brown bag filled with stolen diamonds with a broad smile stretched over his gorgeous features. Victor already hated him.

The figure- the villain, Victor supposed- was standing three roofs over from the jewelry store. From the street he was out of sight as he counted the poured out sample of the diamonds. They were small and reminded Victor of miniature ice cubes, and they sparkled wonderfully underneath the Russian sun. He hadn’t seen Victor yet, was smiling way too smugly at his own cleverness.

“I do not think those are yours,” Victor spoke up, watching as the man was on his feet and facing him within the span of a second; Victor continued to stare, arms crossed and face tilted to the side as if he was considering something.

Chestnut eyes took in Victor’s frame before settling on his face and he inquired, “It’s a little early for the Halloween party, and I’m not entirely sure most people will get it but A for effort.”

Victor internally cringed at the jab. It wasn’t that his uniform was anything spectacular but at least he wasn’t wearing _spandex_.

“For your information,” Victor corrected slowly stepping forward as he kept his gaze on the man before him, “I’m here to stop you. My name is Ice King.”

The villain laughed.

His eyes were glimmering with dark humor as he used his free hand to try and smother the peals of laughter spilling out. Impossibly Victor found that even more irritating then when he’d insulted his costume.

“I’m so sorry,” the villain apologized removing his hand and gathering himself once more before cocking his head to the side and explaining, “That’s just the cutest thing I’ve heard all day. Ice King? _What_ , did a five year old give you that name?”

Five year old Victor curled in the dark corners of the orphanage he’d been raised in whenever he lost control of the cold. The older boys had laughed at him then too- called him such mean and inappropriate names- before abandoning him like everyone else in Victor’s life.

It hadn’t been his fault. He never asked for his greatest curse, and when he’d been young and frightened with the cold as his only friend he’d settled on the name Ice King. He didn’t know anything else- whether he’d be good or evil- but he decided firmly that that was going to be his name and people usually didn’t laugh at it.

Victor took a step forward, hand outstretched in front of him, as he demanded in his best threatening tone, “Give me the diamonds or face the repercussions of the law.”

The villain stopped laughing as he considered him for a long moment. His hip was cocked to the side as dark eyes continued to study him, and Victor was tired of all the staring.

He thrust his hand out further as he demanded on the verge of anger, “Give me. The. _Diamonds_.”

A smile spread across the villain’s face as something in his eyes changed and he brought the diamonds closer to himself as he goaded, “No.”

Victor smirked- twisted and menacing and not at all heroic- as he took another step forward rolling his head and shoulders as he admitted in an almost flirtatious tone, “I was hoping you’d say that,” because this was the reason he left a fifteen year old by himself in their modest apartment breaking yet another promise he’s just going to pretend like he forgot about because that was easier and the cowards way out but no one ever accused Victor of being brave.

The villain was probably anticipating that remark as the next moment he was gone, leaping backwards and landing with a shocking grace on the next rooftop over. His muscles flexed underneath his spandex, and Victor found himself unable to look away.

“You want this little prince?” he teased shaking the bag of diamonds, the priceless rocks rattling in the bag before the villain tied the string to his belt and warned, “It’s not going to be easy.”

Victor leaped forward, and he was considerably older than others he’s met but years of ice skating honed all his muscles and grace and it was almost too easy. The villain didn’t look impressed. His eyes just sparkled like he’d finally found a good challenge.

“Fair warning,” Victor spoke as he swung out with his leg towards the villain’s head, “I never lose.”

The villain danced back, catching Victor’s ankle with the flat of his palm before twisting violently. Victor felt his other foot leave the ground as he was forced to roll with the motion. His fingertips started to tingle, and he had to suck in a deep breath as he landed with the grace of one of those cats in those videos Yuri forces him to watch.

Ice shot from his hand the moment his feet flattened on the roof. He got to relish in the brief moment of shock as he struck his target. The villain went down, ice crystals clinging to black fabric and dark hair and long eyelashes and somehow he looked even more erotic.

Victor straightened back up, staring down at the man with a cross between pity and disgust. That was until the villain suddenly burst out in loud cawing laughter.

“Oh this is just too good,” he noted reaching up to brush the ice from his face, “A superhero with _actual_ superpowers. I thought for certain that those were all extinct.”

“You thought wrong,” Victor shrugged because it came as a shock to a lot of people- especially considering those born with the natural ability of anything were usually shunned from society.

The man turned backwards on his hands, flipping with his hips before landing back on the balls of his feet. He was smiling, teeth glimmering and eyes sparkling and he _looked_ dangerous- not that Victor was concerned.

“Well this is definitely a game changer,” the villain noted as he placed his palms together.

Victor felt rather than heard a sharp ring as his stomach dropped and despair nearly overwhelmed him. He felt sick and confused and disoriented and he couldn’t remember where he was or what he was doing or who he was with. It was a strange sensation- one he’s never felt before- and then, suddenly, the villain was there swinging out with his leg.

Victor went to block but even he realized his movements were too sloppy. Too slow. And the back of the villain’s foot connected with his side and he was sent toppling over.

He managed to catch himself, turning just in time to see the fist. That time he did manage to catch it, just out of sheer surprise and adrenaline, and his hold was released easily with a knee into his stomach. Victor coughed, felt something inside of him bruise, before he was shoved backwards.

Victor stumbled back, feet unsteady and head spinning in confusing circles, the back of his ankle catching the edge of the roof and something overtook him as he started downwards. Blue eyes widened in surprise, panic clawing its way up his throat and his mouth opened but nothing came out.

A hand caught the front of his suit, saving him at the last moment.

Two dark eyes peered back at him, that victorious smile already stretching over pale features. Victor wouldn’t have been surprised if he could hear the way Victor’s heart was thumping around inside his chest.

“Like that little prince?” the villain asked in a teasing tone and mocking smile, “You can go ahead and mark this day down as the day you were beaten by the Masked Phantom.”

Victor wanted to scoff- to make fun at the ridiculous name- and not only did he run around in his high school theater tights but he had the gall to poke fun at _Victor’s_ name when he went around called something like _that_?

He didn’t get the chance to voice any of that. Not when the hand suddenly disappeared and he went tumbling backwards, hands grappling for a hold on something, anything, before he went crashing into the dumpster beneath him.

Something squished under his weight as a liquid he’d rather not know the origin too oozed out from beneath him. He groaned, head spinning and vision swirling and his entire body was numb in a way that promised pain for him in the morning.

At least that eerie feeling had disappeared, clearing his mind enough that he could recognize the sensation as anxiety which was ridiculous because Victor Nikiforov most definitely did not have anxiety. Yet he knew that’s what he’d felt, in the middle of battle, and if someone was truly capable of controlling others’ emotions like that then his immediate stop should become priority.

“Oy! You in the dumpster!” an angry man’s voice shouted, and Victor groaned again because _could he not have peace for five minutes_ \- he really needed to gather his breath.

He rolled over- followed by more squishing and squelching as Victor’s stomach rolled at the possibilities of what he was laying in- and he caught sight of a pudgy man glaring at him from the alleyway. He was balding and old and almost embarrassingly ugly as beady black eyes glared up at him.

“What?” Victor demanded trying to keep his voice light and friendly despite the fact that the longer he was surrounded by trash the more agitated he got.

The man’s eyes seemed to take him in to his fullest and he only seemed to grow more upset at what he saw.

“You’re Ice Prince, aren’t you?” the man demanded, and Victor cringed because he wasn’t a prince regardless of what other people tried calling him; he was a king- strong and majestic and didn’t bow down to anyone.

“Ice _King_ ,” Victor corrected instead, moving to clamber out of the trash can except the bag he’d place his palm against for support imploded under the stress and he ended up face first in rotten fruit and discarded toys that seemed a little suspicious to Victor.

“Whatever,” the man brushed off still sounding angry like he was the one surrounded by other people’s filth, “Listen that man you just lost to stole my diamonds. I need them back or someone’s going to pay.”

“Of course sir,” Victor nodded managing to re-gather himself enough to start back over the lip of the dumpster.

“That means that if I don’t get them back then I’m charging you for them,” the man clarified, and Victor’s brain faltered enough that he miscalculated and ended up busting his butt on the concrete but at least he was out of the dumpster as he stared up at the man with a stunned expression, “What do you mean you’re charging me? _I_ didn’t lose them.”

The man pointed a pudgy finger in his face, and Victor had to resist the urge to swat it away like an upset toddler.

“They were right there,” the man reasoned with more authority than he held at the moment, “and you lost them. There. You’re responsible.”

Victor did swat the finger out from his face then, rising to his feet. The man shrunk back slightly but Victor couldn’t reason if that was because of his smell or if he managed to look threatening despite the fact that he was covered in garbage.

“I’ll get you you’re stupid diamonds back,” Victor ground out but the villain- the _Black Phantom_ \- was already gone and Victor was dying for a shower and a week’s worth of rest.

A hand caught his wrist on his way past and the man clicked his tongue at him once more as he chided, “You can’t just leave. There’s still police reports needed to be filled out. I was just _robbed_.”

Victor gawked at him because there was no way he was serious but he was looking at him like he was and he wasn’t letting go of Victor’s wrist easily.

“No,” Victor responded because he didn’t want to- he wanted home and a shower and to cuddle with Makkachin as he read his book.

The man’s face darkened as he demanded with surprising bravado, “Well you’re a superhero aren’t you? You’re not above the law, and the law says that you need to fill out paperwork.”

Victor opened his mouth to argue but knew there was nothing he could’ve said so he somehow ended up dressed in his light blue uniform smelling like a dumpster in the downtown precinct filling out so many paper’s his hands were starting to cramp.

“There. I’m done,” he declared slapping the clipboard of forms on the front desk, “Can I go now?”

The woman gave him a sympathetic glance as she sighed, “Oh _honey_ , those weren’t the incident reports. These are the incident reports you need to have filled out.”

She brought out another clipboard from underneath her desk, and Victor bit back the urge to groan out loud. He just accepted the papers and his pen before making his way to the spot beside the diamond store manager who hadn’t stopped babbling since they arrived, and it took everything Victor have to not continuous beat his head against the clipboard.

Today was unraveling into the worst one he’s had in a while.

{…}

It was dark when he got out.

He groaned for what’s felt like the millionth time in the last couple of hours. His hand was cramped and tight and he’d answered so many questions he didn’t really know what his name was or if he was a witness, victim, or bystander. All he knew was there was a very long very promising shower waiting for him at home.

It was an almost thirty minute walk and since no one would stop to give him a ride he was stuck walking the entire way. The only consolation was that it wasn’t hot, and he’d never been happier to see the bland building or plain wooden door- and it was a happiness that lasted all of five minutes.

Yuri was on the couch, curled up and sleeping in what looked to be an uncomfortable position. Strands of blonde hair dangled over pale features and he looked incredibly vulnerable whenever he slept. He was still dressed in his school uniform, Makkachin sprawled comfortably against his legs and Victor realized he must’ve stayed up waiting on him.

 _I’ll be back before dinner_ , Victor had promised and he knew it was technically his fault this time but he still felt like an incredible failure all of a sudden.

Forgetting about the coveted shower he ended up sitting on the coffee table staring down at Yuri’s lax features. Before- when Yuri first arrived- Victor would spend almost every night watching the kid sleep as he tried to figure out what he’d done to be burdened with such a loud and disrespectful brat.

He still didn’t know, but his views had changed slightly. Yuri no longer looked like a burden but a gift and Victor couldn’t think of anything grand or heroic that would’ve presented Nikolai into leaving his young grandson in his care. Whatever it was Victor wanted to know because nothing could convince him that he deserved the kid he’d repeatedly hurt and held a trail of more broken promises than Victor cared to admit.

“I’m sorry Yura,” Victor breathed softly resisting the urge to touch the kid’s hair and cheek, “I seem to keep forgetting how young you really are.”

Yuri shifted at the sound of Victor’s voice, causing the older man to tense as he watched and waited holding his breath. Bleary eyes blinked open as Yuri groaned and shifted before he sat upright fist rubbing at his eyes.

Then he was looking at him, and he wasn’t wearing a pleasant expression.

“Victor, what the hell happened to you?” Yuri started before he gagged clamping both hands over his mouth and he hissed, “You smell repulsive.”

“I’ve had a long day,” Victor admitted rising to his feet suddenly self-conscious and yearning for that shower once more.

“Well you’re stinking up the place,” Yuri screamed at him swatting at his arms and torso and legs as he started shoving him out of the room, “Go shower. Now. My eyes are watering.”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Victor protested as the youth continued to forcefully shove him towards the small bathroom, “I’m going. I’m going. Can you-”

They made it to the bathroom with a final push and Yuri interrupted with a harsh, “No,” before the door was slamming shut and Victor was finally surrounded by that blissful silence he’d yearned for the entire time he was forced to sit beside the most talkative victim he’s ever had to deal with.

It suddenly felt very sad and incredibly lonely and Victor rubbed at his aching eyes, the smell finally getting to him.

When he finally exited the shower almost an hour and a half later there was a bowl of leftovers set on the kitchen table for him along with a glass of milk and Yuri was asleep on the couch once more. Victor smiled at the gesture, grateful for the food even if it had grown cold by the time Victor forced himself away from the warm spray of the shower.

Placing his dishes in the sink he flipped off the kitchen light before he gathered Yuri’s small form in his arms. The kid was growing and it wouldn’t be much longer before Victor would no longer be able to carry him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms dangling over his shoulders, as the kid’s soft snores disappeared somewhere against Victor’s chest.

The kid didn’t even stir as Victor carried him to his room, tucking him in his bed before propping himself on the edge, and he tenderly ran his fingers through the soft blonde strands, and Victor’s days had certainly been full of moments he’d rather not remember but, sitting there, watching the small chest rise and fall in easy rhythm, made it all worth it.


	2. Room for Rent, but Victor Isn't

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuuri meet for the first time officially.

Lilia glared at him when Victor broached the idea of a third roommate the next day, and when she looked like that it wasn’t really a wonder why her and Yakov broke off several years after marriage. Victor didn’t dare voice that out loud, of course. Not when he was aware that the human woman before him was fully capable of snapping him in half.

“Two bedrooms Victor,” Lilia finally interrupted him after he explained his idea to her for the fifth time, “Two rooms. Two people. You and Yura. No more.”

“But _Lilia_ ,” Victor whined because he long since learned that flirting with her got him nowhere, “Between groceries and utilities and Yuri’s school fees we can’t afford an increased charge in rent.”

Lilia’s glare intensified- unamused. Not that Victor was all that surprised. The woman never had much of a sense of humor even when Victor had been younger and her husband’s star prodigy.

“We had to increase our prices due to the decrease in residency. Something, I’m sure, that has to do with grown men dressed in his Halloween costume returning in all hours of the night smelling like a trash chute,” she growled at him, and Victor took the blow as halfheartedly he did everything else.

Victor placed his hand against his chest in mock offense as he accused, “You’re words hurt me, my dearest Lilia.”

Her glare didn’t soften- not even a little- and Victor idly wondered if she’d ever even felt anything as she replied, “If you’re tight on money you could try going to get a job like a normal person. Throw away this insane idea of you making a difference.”

Victor fixed a hard stare at her- one of the few things that unnerved her or Yakov, he learned when he’d been young and terrified of everything- as he ground out, “You know why I can’t do that.”

In her defense she didn’t even flinch, though she was obviously uncomfortable. Like Yuri, her and Yakov were the only other people who knew both sides of Victor’s identity. If he had it his way none of them would know but he hadn’t been the best at hiding his powers back then, and Yuri did all the laundry so he could settle with being grateful they all knew how to keep a secret.

“Where do you expect this third person to sleep?” Lilia demanded instead, trying to use sense on Victor- like that’s somehow worked for her in the past.

“In Yuri’s room,” Victor shrugged off having decided the night before that it would really just be easier if Yuri slept with him anyways, “There’s plenty of space in my room for two people.”

Lilia pinched the bridge of her nose as she released an exasperated sound, “And Yura is just okay with this plan?”

Victor felt his cheeks flushed as he scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly and admitted, “I haven’t exactly broached my idea to him yet,” Lilia continued to stare at him like she thought he was an idiot so he backtracked and explained earnestly, “I didn’t want to agitate him unnecessarily if you turn the whole thing down.”

Lilia sighed- sounding old and tired and Victor supposed that was fair- before she asked, “You do know Yuri is your roommate, right? Communication is important.”

“We communicated that we don’t have the money,” Victor reasoned with a shrug, “Just say yes and I’ll tell him.”

“You mean you’ll force him?” she corrected, and Victor felt something tight curl itself in the base of his stomach as something hot and acidic burned up his throat.

“I think we both know that no one can force that kid into anything,” Victor replied a little too snappish and defensive when they both were well aware that Yuri would groan and complain but he’d do anything Victor told him to.

Lilia didn’t reply with words but her face didn’t look like she was telling Victor he was right and that he could start looking for roommates. He figured that was probably because she’d come to the conclusion that Victor was trying to take the easy way out and not get a job. Before he got a chance to try to convince her two surprisingly strong arms circled over his chest in a tight hug.

“Victor! I miss you!” Mila shouted as red curls cascaded down her shoulders in pretty ringlets before she released him with a beaming smile as she asked, “What’re you up to nowadays?”

“I’m trying to get Lilia to okay me so I can go find another roommate since they keep racking the prices up,” Victor explained more than a little bitterly and Mila’s face dropped into a thoughtful expression as she considered her technical boss.

“What’s the problem? The girls in room 423B have six people in a two room apartment,” Mila asked confused and suddenly unsure as Victor continued to stare.

He turned a sharp glare towards Lilia who was looking at Mila like she just announced she was a psycho serial killer in her free time.

“Fine,” Lilia ground out after a long moment eyes flickering back over to Victor as she added in a serious tone, “but whoever you pick needs to be approved by Mila. I don’t want creepy perverts living in this building, _understand_?”

Victor thought- briefly- of someone making lewd eyes at Yuri, and he felt a quick stab of protective fury shoot through him. It was similar to what he felt whenever kids or young women were in peril but different in the case that it was personal. It was _Yuri_.

“Scout’s honor,” Victor promised with a quick flash of his most dazzling smile and he even held up three of his fingers as he disappeared out the door.

There was still several hours before Yuri’s school got out so he had time to look. He also knew that rent was coming up so whoever it was needed to be able to pay almost instantly, but first he needed to get the word out.

It, surprisingly enough, wasn’t overly difficult. Thirty minutes into sticking filers wherever was legal his phone rang, and he agreed to meet the guy for lunch. Only when he walked into the small coffee shop he saw a thick muscled individual with slicked black hair and crooked teeth and a tattoo on his arm that said something extremely insulting in Latin.

“You Victor Nikiforov?” the man grunted when dark eyes landed on him, and they were staring at him in a way that made Victor very uncomfortable.

Yuri would’ve already broken this guy’s nose- hating when people looked at Victor with vulgar gazes. Victor appreciated it, but it felt wrong considering Victor was _technically_ Yuri’s guardian- his protector.

“You gonna sit?” the man demanded in a thick tone and Victor was male so he got it and he knew that this wasn’t someone he wanted in the same country as Yuri, much less apartment.

“I’m afraid this isn’t going to work out,” Victor apologized still standing, “Sorry for wasting your time.”

He wasn’t sorry. He wasn’t feeling much of anything until the man grabbed his arm, and then Victor was feeling angry.

“You don’t got a choice to be particular, I think,” the man argued and Victor contemplated punching him in the mouth himself.

“Let me go right now,” Victor said instead giving his captive arm a slight jostle for emphasis.

The man didn’t as he leaned forward so their noses were nearly touching as he purred, “Or what? You’ll got all feisty like daddy enjoys so much?”

And this wasn’t the first time anyone’s hit on Victor- it wasn’t even the first man. He was pretty, knew he was pretty, and flaunted that fact around him like an overzealous peacock when it benefited him. It never bothered him- not when he knew he could handle himself if it really became dire.

Except this wasn’t about him. This was Yuri needing money because his grandfather was old and had a bad back and couldn’t quit crime fighting if he wanted to. This was Victor looking for a roommate to help alleviate most of their burden, and this man had taken one look at Victor’s picture and decided that he wanted something completely different.

“My answer is no,” Victor ground out ice in his tone as he jerked his arm free and growled, “Lose my number. This is the last time we talk.”

“Ah. Don’t be like that,” the man slurred reaching out to grab him again and his mouth must’ve been working faster than his brain because he said, “I know where you live.”

Victor saw _something_. It wasn’t red because there hadn’t really been a color, but whatever it was it was hot and pulsing and left a burning in the back of his throat as static buzzed in his ears. All he knew, in that moment, was that this man just threatened to show up at their apartment where Yuri lived. The place Yuri was left whenever Victor donned his outfit to stop the more ridiculous villains out there.

And Victor hated whenever Yuri got involved because Victor lost what little sense he has- and Victor hates when he loses that. It makes him feel like he’s lost one of his arms or legs or an eye. It makes him stupid and careless and he crosses a line he _knows_ he shouldn’t.

“Hey now! There’s no need for violence,” an unfamiliar voice piped in and Victor’s vision cleared as a small male inserted himself between the two of them.

His sudden appearance shocked the almost dead man into releasing Victor- which was good for him. Victor was still angry, body crawling with the itch to do something because he’d threatened Yuri and Victor couldn’t just let him walk after that.

The new person- a man only a couple years younger than Victor with mussed black hair and large glasses that consumed most of his features- glanced between the two of them like he was still unsure which was going to lash out first.

Victor. The answer was Victor because the man had threatened Yuri, and Victor’s entire body was crying out for his blood in retaliation.

“Buzz off buddy,” the man grunted as he moved to swat the newcomer away, “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Then I’m sure you don’t want to hear how I already called the cops,” the dark haired stranger asked in an innocent tone but his eyes were sparkling in his defiance as he added with a dip of his head, “or how I’m sure they’ll love knowing a man with a rap sheet as long as yours is just sitting in random Russian cafes.”

That piped the wrong type of attention from the man as he spun on the much smaller male as he grunted out angrily, “How-?”

“You want to hide?” the stranger continued like he never spoke at all, “Don’t paint all your crimes on your body where anybody can read them.”

Most of the color had faded at the words and it was like Victor suddenly didn’t exist as he grunted out some poor excuse on why he needed to leave before he turned tail and ran. Victor watched him go, almost impressed if his bloodlust still wasn’t vibrating around in his head.

“You okay?” the stranger asked worriedly, small hands touching the spot the man had grabbed Victor, “He was looking a little violent.”

“I’m fine,” Victor promised though he didn’t pull away as he stared at the stranger before him- he didn’t look Russian but he was having trouble placing his accent- before introducing, “I’m Victor. Victor Nikiforov.”

Warm brown eyes stared back up at him before a shy smile started across red cheeks as the man grunted, “Yuuri. Katsuki Yuuri.”

The name was off-putting and clearly foreign. Japanese, if Victor had to harbor a guess, and he was dressed in that way people did whenever they first arrive at St. Petersburg. Victor isn’t an idiot, he knows Japan is cold just like he knows Russia is colder and people almost always overcompensate for that when travelling.

So judging by the thick black jacket dangling around slim shoulders and pants that couldn’t be anything except thermal padding Victor could harbor a well educated guess in that this man had just gotten there. No obvious signs of luggage meant that it was sometime yesterday, and that he was still trying to fall into the grove of the city.

Victor’s lived here all his life, and he’s failed to do just that though he knows it’s possible because Yuri did it almost instantly. Young minds and the gift of being born into a normal world so painstakingly average one doesn’t realize it’s a curse until you procure something that makes you stick out.

The man was still staring at him like he was trying to figure something out so Victor stuffed his hands in his pocket, sank lower in his coat and asked, “How long do you plan on staying in the city?”

Yuuri blinked, head turning like he expected his luggage to have followed him from wherever he was staying. Finding housing was a pain and hotels were good as long as your trip didn’t extend past a couple of days- week at the most. Otherwise the cost outweighed the benefits by leaps and bounds and Victor never understood rich tourists who burn through money like oil in a car.

 _Or a guy I once knew_ , Victor’s sullen brain reminded him and he blamed the muscled man who tried taking advantage of Victor because he looks small and effeminate for putting him in such a downer mood.

“I have business here,” Yuuri finally admitted with a shrug once he was certain he hadn’t been followed by suitcases and carrier bags, “So I’m still not sure. You a detective of something?”

Victor let out a breathy laugh as he shook his head. Long silvery bangs fell onto his face at the denial as he offered a gentle smile to the man before him. Something about him felt off, and that something was telling Victor’s brain to run as far from him as quickly as he could. He didn’t because Victor’s always been wary of strangers since he was five and the doctor told him that he was a user.

 _Most gifts seem like curses in the beginning_ , his father had told with sad eyes and ancient lines carved into his features, _but I know you’ll do great things with it._

It was one of Victor’s fondest memories of his father- the man dying barely three years later, and if it hadn’t been Nikolai and Yuri then Victor may never have opened himself to anyone. They didn’t deserve that part of him anyways- the part Victor knew would never change no matter how much he yearned for it to.

“No. No,” he reassured keeping his tone light and airy as he pushed back the warnings blaring against his eardrums, “I’ve lived here long enough to pick up on certain signs. Tourists don’t really fit in.”

Most people got offended by that. Victor still isn’t sure why, maybe due to the fact that people didn’t like sticking out. They yearned to be adaptable, to be able to fit in any place anywhere like a well-beloved glove or shoe, when in actuality very few are.

Yuuri didn’t get offended, didn’t even seem to notice that the words could be used to offend someone, as he stuffed his hands in his pockets meekly and said, “Yeah. I don’t really fit in with a name like Katsuki hanging over my head or with the fact that the cold seems to be my biggest nemesis.”

Victor cocked his head to the side as he inquired in a tone equal parts teasing and curious, “Do people still have nemeses?”

Almost immediately his mind flashed to a small man in black leather on top of the roof. The thought made something sick and acidic creep up Victor’s throat, trying to claw its way free. Maybe normal people don’t have nemeses, but Victor hadn’t been born normal.

Yuuri just shrugged once more, and the silence that settled between them was thick and awkward and made something in Victor’s throat swell. He wasn’t sure why, but he suddenly wanted far away from this man.

His phone buzzed and he glanced at it. It was his alarm for when the schools were supposed to be getting out so Victor can know when Yuri _should_ be home. The boy was easily distracted and busy in his attempts to keep Victor fed and clothed so it usually took him longer, and it was always unsettling to know someone you care for walk alone in such a frightening world.

“I should go pick Yuri up from school,” Victor said without thinking- an easy excuse until he noticed Yuuri blink taken slightly aback before he was able to school his features once more.

He probably didn’t expect to come to Russia and find someone who shared his name, though it was more common than people thought. He didn’t say anything about it, though, which Victor greatly appreciated. He wanted to keep fond memories of this man so he wouldn’t feel as bad for what he was about to do.

Victor picked up a pen and napkin from one of the tables before scribbling his number on it and handed it to Yuuri. Yuuri accepted it looking unsure and wary about something. Victor understood the feeling, didn’t make it a habit to accept numbers from people he just met.

“My number,” he explained simply, “I’m looking for another roommate- just in case you can’t find a place.”

Then Victor was gone.

{…}

“Is this seat taken?”

Yuuri glanced up from his spot at one of the empty tables, mind still reeling about what had transpired in mere minutes. He hadn’t intended to intervene, but something in the silver man’s eyes had struck something in him, and the next thing Yuuri knew was that he was there cutting in and staring into the bluest eyes he’s ever seen.

_Victor Nikiforov._

Yuuri was almost certain he’s heard the name before, seen the face, but he couldn’t figure out where or how he’d end up in some quaint coffee shop a block away from Yuuri’s hotel room. Still something was nagging at him until it consumed him and all he could think about for the past half hour was silver hair and blue eyes.

“It’s all yours,” Yuuri offered waving a hand in front of him and Phichit immediately beamed before sitting down.

He had a folder in his hands that he immediately sat on the table followed by a million different colored pens and highlighters and Yuuri idly wondered where his friend managed to keep all of them. He even asked once- curiosity burning through him- and Phichit had only smiled as he claimed something about life as a reporter.

Phichit frowned when Yuuri didn’t immediately match his smile and Yuuri supposed he was more than a little distracted as his fingers fumbled with the napkin Victor had handed him, and Yuuri cursed at the fact that Phitchit always seemed capable of reading him.

“Something on your mind Yuuri?” he asked sounding like a concerned friend, and Yuuri knew he was but he also knew of Phichit’s profession and the types of stories he’s dying to write about him.

The fact that he hasn’t- that he’s even gone so far as to belittle himself in front of his peers and allow those beneath him take the stories that make one famous because Yuuri asked him too- was the only reason Yuuri still bothered with him. The only reason Yuuri didn’t slit his throat the day Phichit had confronted him about his darkest, most guarded secret.

Yuuri folded the napkin and deliberately placed it on the table. He’s read somewhere that that was a subconscious sign of not really wanting, but the fact that he had to intentionally do it and wanted to pick it back up in his hands he wasn’t sure that it counted.

“I’m fine,” Yuuri promised with a soft huff before he hummed thoughtfully, “People in Russia are kinder than I expected.”

Phichit snorted, back of his hand covering his mouth as his eyes danced with humor and he shook his head. Yuuri took that to mean that Russians were not nice people and that Victor must’ve been an exception.

“I’m sorry,” Phichit apologized in which Yuuri just shrugged before the younger male added, “Someone must’ve taken quite a liking to you.”

Yuuri wrinkled his nose at the thought. In his mind he could see the male- tall and thin and carried a certain grace that captivated and refused to let go- as he was dwarfed by someone who obviously held ill intentions towards him. Yuuri didn’t care, knew he didn’t just like he knew he could’ve walked away and not lost a single night of sleep over it.

It had been something in the man’s eyes- something Yuuri still didn’t know. Something that’s made him keep the napkin even if the simplest solution would be to toss it and let the memory die there.

“He offered me a place to live,” Yuuri said instead long fingers re-gathering the napkin so he could attempt to flatten out the long creases running up and down the white object, “Said he was looking for a roommate.”

“That’s great,” Phichit replied instantly, voice the embodiment of excitement and it wasn’t the first time Yuuri wondered what he knew that no one else did.

“Is it?” Yuuri pressed and though his fingers kept fiddling with the napkin in his lap dark eyes were focused on the smaller male sitting across from him, “I’m _dangerous_ , Phichit. I was born into this world with a fate normal people shouldn’t be subjected to.”

Except he’s never cared about how his presence affected others around him before so there must be another reason. Something his brain has yet to figure out so it’s just spitting out as many excuses as it could.

Phichit picked up one of his pens before neatly setting it back down, a nervous habit. Yuuri sucked in a deep breath, reigning in control of his emotions once more.

“What’s the man’s name?” Phichit asked sounding as sullen as he looked and Yuuri narrowed his eyes, securitizing the sodden expression across the other male’s face.

For whatever reason Yuuri hated whenever Phichit looked sad or the slightest bit upset. It had been an odd realization, one he never wished to have again, and he wasn’t entirely sure where he’d gone so horribly wrong but he quickly realized it wasn’t something going away. He was stuck with the usually always cheery reporter.

“Victor,” Yuuri quickly filled in as he continued to stare and try to discern rather or not this conversation was what was making Phichit look the way he did, “Victor Nikiforov. He mentioned another one, a child. Yuri. I don’t know his last name though it’s probably Nikiforov.”

Phichit shook his head before explaining simply, “Victor doesn’t have any children as he’s never had a lover before. As far as I know he doesn’t have a roommate either. Then again, I could be wrong. He’s kind of a recluse. I only know him because he’s so beautiful.”

Yuuri felt something rip in his palms and he glanced down to see part of the napkin’s corner had ripped. He sucked in a deep breath, held it before releasing like his mother used to teach him when he’d been young and frightened of everything.

“Yeah,” Yuuri agreed as he stared at the numbers, burning them into his memory, “Infuriatingly so.”

{…}

Yuri was angry.

Victor supposed he probably shouldn’t have told him about the events at the small coffee shop several hours prior to picking him up. Victor usually wouldn’t have except for whatever reason he wanted to talk about the Japanese stranger and his brown eyes and pale skin. Yuri- of course- didn’t hear any of that, brain stuck on some man trying to take advantage of Victor.

It was sweet how protective the boy could be. It never really made sense, but Victor wasn’t going to complain knowing how much the youth cared for him.

“I’m going to claw his eyes out and feed them to the pigeons,” Yuri sputtered and his voice was still pitched in a low whine as he stomped several feet in front of Victor as his threats became more and more creative.

Victor laughed, a tinkling sort of sound, as he draped himself over the youth’s shoulders dramatically. Yuri stumbled, caught off guard, but he lived his whole life proving how strong he was so he didn’t buckle.

“ _Stupid_ Victor,” he protested voice loud as he went to wrestle Victor off, “Get off old man.”

Victor didn’t listen as he curled himself further in the youth’s shoulder and murmured thoughtfully, “It’s nice knowing you care so much.”

“Who said anything about caring?” Yuri demanded as he managed to shove Victor off; he was blushing, a bright pink tinge to his cheeks as he poorly attempted to hide it behind a wall of bangs as he demanded sourly, “Why didn’t you freeze the guy’s balls off?”

Victor was about to when he threatened to go to their apartment, but he wasn’t going to tell Yuri that. Some things really weren’t worth sharing.

“There was honestly no need,” Victor reassured remembering the Japanese man with a fond smile before he added, “Don’t worry so much Yuri, I’ll protect you.”

Yuri kicked his face, an impressive feat yet one the youth managed with a sort of grace Victor’s always been envious of. Victor blinked up at the scowling face hovering above him as the kid panted, hands clenching and unclenching into tight fists.

“I’m not the one that needs protecting,” Yuri snapped sounding peeved but Victor just laughed again because that was something he could _almost_ believe.

He’d never tell the youth that, though some part of him thinks he should. Then he wouldn’t have to worry so much.

“Of course not,” Victor agreed easily as he rose back to his feet, “and I really appreciate your anger on my behalf, but its fine now.”

Yuri gave him a withering look- one that spoke volumes and always made Victor feel like an idiot- before he said simply, “Right. You’re knight in shining armor.”

Victor laughed again, wrapping his arm around the youth’s shoulders. As he suspected the kid didn’t immediately shove him away, the thought of some stranger taking advantage of Victor probably still running rampant through his mind.

“No, of course not,” Victor hummed as he lead them in the direction of his apartment, “He wasn’t wearing armor and it was black.”

Yuri probably would’ve attempted to hit him again if Victor wasn’t holding on to him so tight. Even still Victor knew it wouldn’t hurt- the youth always held back whenever it was Victor, probably actually afraid of hurting him. There really was no need- users have a higher pain tolerance than normal people.

So instead of hitting him Yuri released a heavy sounding sigh before grumbling, “You’re an idiot Victor.”

“Whatever you say,” Victor agreed too quickly, too easily, as they continued to walk side-by-side and Yuri gave him another concerned glance.

Victor ruffled his hair just to get him to stop looking like he was suddenly going to disappear. Victor wasn’t going anywhere, and he’d be damned if Yuri did either so there really wasn’t a need to look so anxious.

Yuri made a startled noise, going to shove Victor off him. It didn’t work, Victor refusing to let go now that the youth was at his side and Yuri struggled a bit more. The kid was stronger than he let on, coming from a strong bloodline, but he was still normal. Victor could’ve easily overpowered him if he wanted to.

At least up until his foot slid on a patch of ice and they both went careening back onto the snow that’s piled around the buildings’ corners. Victor hit first, laughing even before Yuri struck him on the chest. The boy’s entire face was red now with embarrassment as he sat up sputtering out apologies like he was at fault.

Victor wanted to hug him- comfort and reassure him.

Instead- because he’s Victor and an idiot and knew Yuri was as bad with feelings as they come- he shoved a handful of snow onto the boy’s face.

Yuri sputtered in surprise, choking midsentence. Victor’s laugh echoed around them even as Yuri’s eyes narrowed into something predatory and fierce.

“I’m going to kill you stupid Victor!” the boy claimed and before Victor know what was happening something cold and wet and already mostly water was pressed into his face, cutting his laugh off.

Victor shook it off, blinking at Yuri kneeling at his side looking equal parts pleased and guilty. He’d still been a child when he was suddenly dropped on Victor’s doorstep, even younger when he lost his parents. He never had time to grow up, not when Victor trying making it clear that if the boy wanted to live with him then he’d have to fend for himself.

Victor hated himself for it- hated even more how well the kid adapted to the challenge.

He lost whatever remains of a childhood was available for him. He was forced to grow up- in many ways for both of them- and he’d taken it all with a certain grace normal people should be incapable of. Yet he’d been tested, as they all are, when he was born and he didn’t have the gene. The mutation. The curse. He’d been spared that fate and handed a much worst one.

Now looking at him Victor realized this was probably the first time the kid ever acted out as a child. He was panting, and his shirt and pants had already been soaked through by the snow, and he looked pleased with himself. More so than any of that, though, he looked confused.

Victor laughed, signaling that it was okay, before he reached out to capture Yuri against his chest once more. They went down again, and Victor’s sure they were a sight to see but he didn’t care because Yuri was laughing with him now. Small hands curled into the folds of Victor’s shirt for support as Victor moved in sporadic motion.

“Get off Victor!” Yuri cried between peals of laughter as he was flipped on his back and he looked so young, so vulnerable and Victor felt happiness swell in his chest, “We need to head home before Makkachin pees on the carpet.”

“How dare you use my one weakness on me!” Victor cried dramatically as he flopped over the boy’s form.

Yuri tried pushing him off, complaining about how heavy he was, but he was still laughing and it was almost enough to cover up the sound of Victor’s phone ringing.

Blinking in surprise, Victor sat up and answered, “Hello?”

“Hey. This is Yuuri from earlier,” the vaguely familiar timid voice spoke from the other end, “I was wondering if your room was still available.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's a good chance this is going to take forever. Also updates are hard, so forgive me in advance.


	3. Old Friends and New Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An old friend visits Victor and Yuri, and the Ice King and Masked Phantom have a little talk.

Yuri hadn’t stopped glaring at him since Victor broke the news that he needed all his stuff boxed up and moved into Victor’s room by noon tomorrow even though that was hours ago. He probably wasn’t going to stop glaring at him and Victor sighed in resignation as he realized that’s just how Yuuri’s first impression of the youth is going to go.

Even so, when by the time the sun dropped all of Yuri’s stuff was boxed and in Victor’s room. Yuri didn’t move to unpack them though Victor wished he would.

“I don’t feel like packing and unpacking repeatedly old man,” Yuri had snapped when Victor broached the subject and he’d backed off with an obedient smile.

He hadn’t missed the teary way Yuri’s eyes glazed over even as he poured so much heat into his words. It felt wrong- Victor making the kid cry- but there wasn’t any proof and they were still broke and needed Yuuri.

“I’m going to the store to get food for your ridiculous request,” Yuri suddenly announced hours later, tying a white scarf around his thin neck as he headed towards the door.

Victor, who’d been sitting on the couch, was already rolling off to intercept the youth. It was dark, and this was their last night of just them, and it was _dark_. Victor couldn’t set his phone to go off at every little danger, alerting him to everything that happened in the city, if something happened and that was the only reason he still agreed on letting the kid leave the apartment.

Not that he’d ever admit to it.

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” Victor protested instead with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he tried to go for reason but knew he was on the verge of freaking out because he didn’t have a good excuse on why the kid wasn’t allowed to leave the apartment.

Yuri glared, eyes narrowed and furious and burning, as he reminded unhelpfully, “You were the one who requested dinner, and we don’t have all the stuff idiot. Now move so I can go to the store before they close.”

“Shopping takes too long,” Victor tried, “I’m practically starving. Make something quicker, _da_?”

Yuri’s eyes narrowed like he was suspicious. He should be, Victor’s heart was hammering as he thought of Yuri out alone walking past all the dark alleyways and it would be so easy to pick the kid up and take him to a place no one would ever find.

Victor knew he would- eventually. He’d rip everything apart, allow the darkest urges burrowed inside him free, and he wouldn’t stop. That thought scared him almost as much as waking up and the kid he’s been stuck with for five years not safely tucked away somewhere in the apartment.

Yuri must have seen some of that in Victor’s eyes as his shoulders deflated and he grumbled out, “Sure. Whatever.”

He turned away, unlacing the scarf as he went. He dropped it on the back of the couch, and Victor remembered to breathe as he followed Yuri into the kitchen. Yuri glared at him, said something about him being a hindrance while he tried to cook, but Victor ignored him as he sat at the table and stared at the youth as he moved gracefully around the small kitchen.

It seemed like forever ago when Victor’s idol appeared at his doorstep with a runt of a child and the impossible request that Victor raise him if only for a little while. It seemed like even longer ago when Victor was convinced he resented Yuri and everything he represented, and he’d never wanted to go back and hit himself as much as he did whenever he watched Yuri move.

Everything was graceful and almost majestic. Catlike. It didn’t help that the youth was still physically small or that he allowed his hair to grow out so it dangled in his face more times than not, and though Yuri showed signs of growing into someone tall and strong he was still very young and a child. _Victor’s_ child.

Except he wasn’t, and he never will be, and Victor couldn’t really claim him so he didn’t. At the very least he owed Yuri that much.

“So this room stealing pig?” Yuri suddenly demanded voice low and deadly in a way only Yuri could manage as he set a pot of water on top of the stove to boil, “What’s his name?”

Victor smiled though the words were insulting.

“Yuuri,” Victor breathed as he flashed back to the full face hidden beneath dark hair before he realized Yuri was glaring at him once more so he added with an airy chuckle, “Just like you.”

“Stupid old man,” Yuri spat as his face practically burned with his anger, “We can’t have two Yuris. Call him and tell him he can’t move in. Do it.”

It seemed the kid was grasping for straws, trying to come up with a reason to convince Victor to not invite a third person into their life. Victor didn’t understand that. It’ll be nice to have someone who doesn’t threaten or insult him every time he opened his mouth.

So Victor’s smile just grew as he practically chirped, “You’re right. We shouldn’t have two Yuris. From now on you’ll be referred to as Yurio.”

“What?” Yuri balked and he looked genuinely appalled by the name, “No. Don’t call me that.”

“Too late Yurio,” Victor denied with a shake of his head and amused chuckle, “From today onwards you will be referred to as Yurio.”

Yuri looked like he was going to stab him.

Victor supposed he was lucky that someone chose that exact moment to knock on their door.

“I’ll get it!” Victor sang, Yuri grunting behind him.

A tall blond man with brown hairs sticking out from his undercut stared back at him with sparkling green eyes. A smile had already started to split across his features even before Victor’s face broke out into a warm smile.

“Chris! I haven’t seen you in a dog’s year!” Victor beamed before he blinked and turned to his head to apologize, “Sorry Makkachin.”

The dog just tilted his head at him from his spot on the couch, not having moved at the knock. Victor would’ve pondered that further if he wasn’t busy ushering Chris in the apartment removing his heavy coat and promising some heated coco.

“I’d love some,” Chris agreed with a low hum, “Thank you.”

Victor smiled back, trying to think back to the last time he’d seen Chris. It’s felt like forever- the man having moved back to Switzerland due to a personal dilemma that had just randomly popped up. He never returned back to Russia.

“Yuri start another pot, would you?” Victor called and caught a glimpse of Yuri glaring at him as he moved to obey so Victor decided to push his luck and added, “And do be careful in the kitchen. It’s a dangerous place.”

“You still live with little Yuri?” Chris asked sounding shocked, and Victor realized that Chris had left shortly after Nikolai dropped Yuri at his doorstep- back when Victor was still referred to Yuri as his little burden.

Chris had been kinder, adapting ‘little Yuri’ probably to remind Victor that the kid was still a child and needed Victor. Yuri never seemed to have minded, had always liked Chris well enough.

“Where else would he go?” Victor asked with a smile that showed he was only half teasing, “It’d take a cruel man to just toss him out on the streets. After all, he’s a good enough pet.”

Chris frowned though he must’ve known Victor was joking.

Victor cleared his throat suddenly uncomfortable. Despite what others thought emotions were difficult for him- perhaps more so than most people. He still dreamt of the orphanage, of the headmaster who discovered his powers and kept him locked away when he wasn’t punishing him, and Victor resented everyone even after he left to start anew.

He met Chris sometime afterwards, and he _liked_ Chris. He admired the way the male could give some form of love to complete strangers, and the way he could make them feel like they were special. That he didn’t run around flaunting his body to anything that moves, so Victor learned to fake that easy personality until it became almost natural.

That didn’t change the fact that Victor was still made of ice and the cold and nothing would ever change that. Not even Yuri, who showed Victor that the world wasn’t about him.

And, as if Victor’s thoughts summoned him, Yuri suddenly appeared shoving him a cup of iced coffee- Victor’s favorite- before offering Chris a blue mug overflowing with melting marshmallows. He didn’t offer any snacks nor had he brought any of them out with him, and when Victor looked up at him expectantly Yuri glared back.

“You’ll spoil your dinner,” he snapped without much explanation- his entire body seemingly avoiding the fact that Chris was beaming at him.

“You’ve grown since the last time I’ve seen you,” Chris noted and Yuri’s face soured and Victor was about to remind the youth of his manners- Chris was their _guest_ and insulting guests was uncalled for- before Chris added, “Must be hard living with Victor. You know even after all these years my offer still stands.”

Victor tore his gaze from Yuri who’d suddenly found a spot on the ceiling very interesting so Victor resumed staring at Chris. He may have been glaring- was probably glaring- because there was only a few ways that sentence could go and none Victor liked. Chris didn’t seem to mind or even notice as he continued to watch Yuri’s small frame.

“What’re you talking about?” Victor demanded and it was hard to force the words to come out in a teasing tone, “I’m a _delight_ to live with.”

“Makkachin is better tamed than you,” Yuri snapped before Chris could explain and maybe that was intentional because his eyes suddenly softened as he added, “You’d be lost without me.”

Chris nodded like he understood- like that answered his question- and all Victor could think about was that this could only mean Chris had just offered to take in Yuri. In front of Victor, he had the gall to suggest something so preposterous.

Then Yuri cleared his throat as he turned to face Chris once more and demand, “Are you staying for dinner? We’re having stew.”

“Ah. I’m afraid I didn’t bring any wine to compensate,” Chris denied with a shake of his head and normally Victor would’ve jumped at the chance to reassure the male that he was _always_ welcomed there, except Victor was still reeling from the fact that Chris just tried to take Yuri from him.

Yuri kicked his shin, and he was glaring again so Victor glared back. Chris was still smiling like he just made a point known.

Yuri must’ve given up on Victor because he huffed and turned back to Chris and offered despite Victor’s glaring, “You’re always welcomed here. Victor is just _moody_ today.”

“I am not moody,” Victor denied almost instantly before he added as an afterthought, “ _You’re_ the moody one.”

“It really is fine,” Chris reassured as his eyes flickered between the two of them; he set his cup on the table before rising to his feet as he explained, “I only came to say hello to my old friends. I actually have business to attend to in St. Petersburg.”

“Oh?” Victor asked interested, “What type of business?”

Chris’s smile grew guarded and Victor was still upset with him even as he reassured with a wave of his hand, “Nothing. _Boring_ stuff,” his face grew soft and genuine as he finished, “It was nice seeing you again Victor. Yuri.”

At his name the teenager seem to break from his trance as he offered, “I’ll make you something to go,” before disappearing back towards the kitchen.

Chris watched him go. Victor rose to his feet so he was between the two of them, shoulders curved subconsciously. He hoped his eyes informed Chris that he needed to back off. Yuri wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“He really has a kind heart,” was what Chris said instead, “He’s lucky to have you.”

Victor didn’t reply as Yuri reemerged with a bundle of Pirozhki they’d had the night before. Victor gawked as the youth explained it was all they had, and that he’d come at a bad time. Chris smiled fondly, ruffling blonde hair and thanking him before he moved back towards the door.

Victor trailed behind, helping his oldest friend into his jacket as Yuri disappeared back into the kitchen. Chris was humming softly before green eyes flickered over Victor’s shoulder. Victor was tempted to glance back but Chris’s hand was suddenly wrapped around his forearm and he looked serious suddenly.

“Watch out for him, and yourself as well,” Chris demanded sharply; Victor blinked dumbly.

“Always Chris,” Victor replied because so much had changed since the last time they’ve seen each other.

It seemed it was going to keep changing.

Chris released him with a nod before he added softly, “There’s a storm on the horizon. Be careful.”

Then he was gone.

{…}

Yuuri arrived at precisely noon the next day with a suitcase and carrier bag and gentle smile that _melted_ inside Victor’s chest. It certainly helped that Yuri was at school so Victor didn’t have to worry about the kid attacking the Japanese man just yet.

“I think we may have something to snack on if you’re hungry,” Victor offered after showing Yuuri to his new room, smiling at the younger man welcomingly.

Yuuri blinked like he was surprised by the offer before he smiled and shook his head, “No thank you. I really shouldn’t eat between meals. I gain weight like you wouldn’t believe.”

Victor nodded though he didn’t really understand. Ever since he was little he could always eat as much as he wanted and gain practically nothing. Yuri thought it had something to do with his ability, burning everything off quicker than Victor consumed it. Victor had just reminded the kid that his ability was ice, not fire.

“Yuri is at school,” Victor informed instead, “He’ll be home in a couple of hours. Until then make yourself at home.”

Yuuri tilted his head at the mention of the youth before he inquired curiously, “Is Yuri your son?”

Victor choked on air, quick to shake his head. Yuri would kill him if he found out Victor told their new roommate that he was his son, though Victor often fantasized of having children and they were always like Yuri.

Yuuri’s frown just deepened as he added, “It’s weirder if he’s not your son, you know?”

“It’s complicated,” Victor settled on with a soft smile.

Yuuri nodded though his eyes still seemed apprehensive. He didn’t pry any further, for which Victor was grateful. He considered himself lax in nature but anything that pertained to his ward, and there wasn’t much he could do to stop himself.

Yuuri seemed nice enough, though, and his questions were innocent in nature. Victor just told himself that he was still upset about last night, and a night of minimal sleep didn’t help. He’d just laid there, all night, listening to Yuri breathe at his side. Reassure himself that everything was alright. He didn’t leave.

It was a fear he’d never considered before. He just always assumed that if he lost the blonde then he’d be able to get him back, but if Yuri left of his own violation Victor would have no choice but to watch him go. The thought hurt more than he suspected it would.

“Is this my room?” Yuuri asked, eyes blown with wonderment as he stared at the modest space before turning to regard Victor with an expression that made Victor _melt_ inside, “Like, all mine?”

Victor smiled before he nodded.

Yuuri’s delight became palpable then as he admitted, “I didn’t think- this is really too much. Not to mention your boss offered me a job as well...”

Victor’s world halted.

He didn’t have a boss because he didn’t have a job. That was part of the reason they had to seek out a third person because Lilia is ruthless and keeps boosting the price, but then it clicked and Victor’s frown softened to something more curious.

“You know how to ice skate?” he asked- thinking of a time when Yakov would boast about being Victor’s coach to anybody with ears; that had been before Victor accidently outed himself, and he hasn’t gone back to the rink since- even went so far as to call it cursed.

Yuuri’s eyes grew round as he nodded and replied, “There’s one really close to my house. One of my closest friends works there now. She lets me skate on it when everyone else has already left. Why? Do you skate?”

Victor flashed him another smile, but this time it was strained and ugly, before he shook his head and only half-lied, “No.”

Yuuri’s expression dropped to confusion and Victor realized they were approaching dangerous territory so he found himself saying something about coffee as his body moved to the kitchen. Yuuri didn’t follow, saying he was going to start unpacking, and Victor was surprised he didn’t turn to protest.

Hours later and twenty cups of unnecessary coffee later, the door opened before Yuri slammed it shut behind him. He was angry, front buttons on his shirt buttoned wrong, and his pants were dirt stained. Victor blinked in surprise, felt his heart drop because _this would happen the one day he turned off his notifications-_

Then piercing green met blue and Yuri snarled, “It’s not what it looks like. There’s this new idiot that transferred today, and he jumped out of a window today.”

The words registered but they still didn’t make much sense and certainly didn’t put any ease on the pulsing sensation wrapped around Victor’s heart. Pressing his chest in icy tendrils of his fury.

“I tried to stop him but tripped and fell out as well,” Yuri continued before slamming his bag onto the couch and huffing, “We ended up in the infirmary all day together and- let me tell you- he doesn’t know when to _shut up_. He just kept rambling on and on about how sweet I was for trying to stop him.”

“You fell out a window?” Victor asked, brain still stuck on that part of Yuri’s story.

Yuri rolled his eyes before fixing a droll stare on him as he replied darkly, “On the first floor. Next time I’m just going to push him.”

Victor was shaking his head because only _some_ of what he was saying made any sense. His heart had calmed down some once it became obvious that Yuri hadn’t and wasn’t currently in any immediate danger.

“Who’s this idiot’s name?” Victor asked instead, folding his arms over his chest as he tried calming his racing thoughts.

_Yuri is fine. He wasn’t hurt and was more than capable of handling idiots. Everything was fine. Nothing happened. Yuri is fine._

Except when he looked at the scrawny kid is was obvious that Yuri was anything _but_ fine. Alive, yes, and obviously furious but his knees were scuffed and his uniform was a mess and he if he had ended up in the infirmary all day then he was the opposite of fine.

_On the first floor._

It was only one floor. Yuri was fine, probably not even any permeant damages.

Yuri was staring at him like he could read his mind before he continued slowly, “Jean-Jacques Rousseau but he goes by JJ. Stupid, right? Claims to be _Canadian_.”

Victor couldn’t help but chuckle fondly as he berated warmly, “I’m _sure_ he’s Canadian, Yuri, and he didn’t pick his name.”

Even as the words left his mouth, gentle smile marring his features, he found he couldn’t find it in himself to like this JJ character. He knew it was wrong- he’d never even met the kid- but looking at Yuri distraught and messy, it made every instinct inside of Victor cry for blood who was responsible.

Yuri gave an angry huff before he snarled, “That’s _not the point_. The idiot jumped out the window and I-”

Victor felt a warmth blossom in his chest as he realized Yuri had tried stopping him because he was worried some brainless idiot was going to injury himself. Victor just wished he knew how to handle these types of situations.

“If you want I could call the school in the morning and…” he trailed off when he saw Yuri’s glare intensify.

“How was this other Yuuri?” Yuri demanded instead, spitting the name like the foulest thing he’s ever had to say before, but then he added thoughtful, “Where is he anyways?”

Victor’s heart fluttered as he remembered the dark haired brown eyed hero that saved Victor in the coffee shop. He just didn’t want to look like a complete idiot.

“I think this one is going to work out fabulously. He just has to wait for Lilia to approve him,” Victor said instead and was all too aware of the stupid grin spread across his face.

Yuri still looked unsure- and Victor expected for him to say something snide or rude- but the teen just sighed before he murmured pitifully, “I’ve had a really long day Victor. Can I just go to bed?”

Victor blinked at the question as he nodded and reassured, “Of course. Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

Yuri’s face shifted to the one he reserved for true idiots, before he ground out, “You gave my bed away Victor. Where do you expect me to sleep?”

Victor’s stomach dropped as he racked his brain before offering the teen his bed. Yuri glared a moment further before retreating to the back room. Victor watched him go, feeling sad because no matter what anyone said Yuri was his baby and he’ll always be that and people hurting him made Victor _hurt_.

“You can take my bed,” Victor offered hoping to placate the teen.

Yuri didn’t argue. He didn’t even make a face. He just nodded all compliant and meek before disappearing to Victor’s room. Victor watched him go, debating rather to follow him or to let him sleep. When he decided that, no, he needed to ensure Yuri was 100% alright his phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Glancing at it he realized it was his hero alarm, and he silently cursed as the words ‘ _Masked Phantom_ ’ flashed across the screen. He glanced at the door Yuri had disappeared into, considering setting the phone back down and going to ensure Yuri was alright.

He couldn’t, though. Not when the general public needed him.

He grabbed his suit on his way out.

{…}

“I was wondering when you’d show up, little prince,” the Masked Phantom said as soon as Victor stepped into the abandoned factory.

Victor frowned before asking, “Did you call yourself in?”

The Masked Phantom grinned broadly as he held a small sleek card, one Victor had seen a million times. One he’d rather wish they stop handing out on every corner like handing out the hotline to Victor’s emergency phone was no big deal.

The Masked Phantom glanced at, bunching his nose up in an almost adorable manner, as he practically purred, “You’re really easy to contact. You should be more concerned about that. Someone someday may track you.”

Victor knew that wasn’t possible- had taken great pains to ensure that the phone he used was changed every month and that it was only _connected_ to the hotline. The real hotline- the one on that and every other card- was a generator Victor had paid for in cash almost eight years ago.

That way, when he’d first started saving people, the people could call in their problems, and Victor would have a way of knowing who needed help. He just never expected for the bad guy to use it to draw him out.

“You have something you want to speak about?” Victor demanded, suppressing the anger that surged at the mention of this man knowing where Victor resided.

The Masked Phantom tossed the card to the side before rising to his full height. He was considerably shorter than Victor- dark hair long and well-kept and Victor couldn’t help but notice how his long lean muscles looked under the tight fabric.

Victor didn’t like him all that much.

“I wanted to ask a favor from you,” the Masked Phantom explained once he closed most of the distance between them, “A onetime offer, I assure you. It’d be very wise to accept it.”

Victor’s eyes hardened and he denied, “No.”

Dark eyes found Victor’s as the man tutted and reprimanded, “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“You want me to back off,” Victor said because he already knew, “Whatever you’re planning, you want me to sit back and let you do whatever it is you want to do. No. This is my city, and I’m _not_ allowing a deranged circus clown with a secret agenda do whatever he wants in it.”

The Masked Phantom gave a sly smirk that sent something icy and dangerous surge through Victor’s stomach.

“You’re an enduring man, little princess,” he mocked, voice scathing in ways that grated on every nerve Victor had, “and I know you are capable of seeing reason. I’m not asking you to not continue whatever charity work you call this. Just, let me do what I need to do.”

Victor shook his head again- growing agitated- as he denied once more, “I’m not allowing you to hurt any civilians.”

The man’s eyes grew wide as he reassured quickly, “I don’t want to hurt anyone. I give you my word, as long as you give yours that you will not interfere.”

Victor didn’t even pause, didn’t hesitate. He knew what he was doing was good- _right_ \- and he wasn’t going to back off because of an empty promise that meant _nothing_ to people like the man before Victor.

“No.”

The Masked Phantom gave him a disappointed glare, but he was resilient so he changed tactics and asked, “Do you have anyone in particular you want to protect, _Ice King_?”

The name came out like it tasted bad. The feeling _that_ rose paled compared to the sudden burst of icy rage at the question- innocent as the man may have intended it.

The familiar warmth of anger pooled in Victor’s gut as he snarled, “I’m not going to let you hurt anyone.”

It was a mistake. Victor showed his hand- the slightest bit of emotion all it took. He knew that, has dealt with worst without revealing the slightest bit of weakness. The Masked Phantom just ignited something inside of Victor- an emotion he had been so sure he wasn’t capable of.

The villain smirked- dark and gloating- as he prodded, “So it seems you do have someone. That’s sweet. What would you do to protect this mystery person, I wonder?”

“We’re here to talk about you, not me,” Victor snapped, not even bothering to hide his ire.

There wasn’t really a point. The man had already seen it, already coerced it out of him. Victor didn’t like it but he knew better than to dwell.

The villain smiled as he noted in a calm voice, “You didn’t want to speak about me. This person- what are they to you?”

Victor had to resist the urge to attack. He knew it would’ve been futile- probably was exactly what the villain wanted- but the more he pried about Yuri the angrier Victor got.

“My answer is no,” Victor gritted out, “I’m not letting you do whatever it is you’re planning to do.”

The villain’s smile stretched as his eyes grew grave and disappointed. Victor felt something start to crawl up his spine- an unseeing threat that hung around them.

“Pity. I was under the impression you were smart,” the man tutted, “I’m sure you’ll be quick to learn soon enough.”

Then he was gone. Victor let him go.


	4. The Weakest Body Holds the Strongest Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri officially moves in and Yuri contemplates about life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I offer this as I probably won't be able to update next week. I might be able to get something out Monday but I wouldn't hold your breath. Also, I know this story is progressing at a snail's pace but I ask to stay patient. It's getting there.

Phichit didn’t hate many things, which he supposed meant he loved lots of stuff. He didn’t find that particularly true either, though. He did love some things- his phone, his hamsters, his career- and he liked other things- his friendship with Yuuri, where he sits with his current job. He also didn’t like things.

Hate though? It took a lot before Phichit started to hate anything, but he did occasionally find himself hating with all his being and sitting there with his boss going on about how the Masked Phantom is evil he hated it.

He still remembered the first time he met Yuuri. They’d both been young and not too far out of high school and Phichit had been on a case. Yuuri, he recalled, had been one of the witnesses to a crime that seemed so mundane now.

He hadn’t known then, and he hadn’t figured it out until several years later. Yuuri was good at keeping secrets, and he had an innocent looking face to help him out.

They hadn’t become friends then. Phichit wouldn’t even have considered them acquaintances, and he was certain Yuuri forgot his name almost instantly. It’d be weeks before they met again- under unfriendly circumstances once more.

The details became fuzzy with age, but Phichit remembered he’d been young and stupid. He’d pushed himself too far- gambled without really considering the consequences- and it’d been the villain that rescued him. After that he’d owed Yuuri his life without even knowing.

And now he had to sit and listen to other people run one of his only friend’s name through the figurative mud. There was nothing he could do about it either, and he _hated_ it.

“Chulanont. You listening?” his boss demanded, accent thickening with his irritation; on that, Phichit thought they could agree on.

“Yes sir,” he replied crisp and painfully proper and more polite than the man deserved, “The Masked Phantom is out and about in St. Petersburg. What’s the Ice King doing about it?”

“The Ice King is doing everything he’s capable of,” his boss snapped- dark eyes flashing with his annoyance, “but this little menace is out wreaking havoc at every turn. _Selfish_. I want you on him.”

Phichit nodded because that’s what he’s paid to do.

“Yes sir.”

“And if you blow this,” Phichit’s boss continued darkly, “If you make me or this company look bad- if you do anything like the last couple of stories I’ve sent you on- you’re done. No more favors, no more blind eyes. Screw this up, and you’re fired.”

Phichit swallowed, having learned a long time when his boss was playing hard ass to make employees more compliant. This was not one of those times.

“Yes sir.”

His boss smiled- forced friendliness. He didn’t like Phichit- a mutual feeling- but this job wasn’t something he could afford to lose.

“Good,” his boss approved, “Get me a story, a good one. Last chance. Don’t blow it.”

{…}

 _JJ_ , Yuri observed from his spot in the back of the classroom, _is the most overconfident idiot to ever walk the earth. More so than Victor._

He was kind, though. Handsome and helplessly in love with Isabella Yang- a girl that transferred with JJ. They’d been together forever, apparently, and everyone told them how cute of a couple they were. Perfect in every way.

It made Yuri sick but most public displays of affection did.

The only positive thing Yuri could ever imagine saying to them was that they complement each other. JJ was determined to be Yuri’s friend- for some unseen reason- and Isabella only ever regarded him with cold glances and hard eyes. Isabella was his favorite.

“Hey Yuri!” JJ called, bouncing over to him in that overzealous way of his, “Come sit beside me and Isabella.”

The girl in question, who never left JJ’s side and hardly ever spoke directly to Yuri, stared at the man like he was insane. Bright blue eyes stared up at the shorthaired man, short black hair making her cheekbones seem sharp.

“Come on now JJ. He doesn’t want to,” she chided, but Yuri knew it wasn’t for him.

Isabella didn’t like a lot of people- JJ seeming to be the only acceptation. Even so plenty of people were fond of her, and Yuri was lost to that. They’d been there a day and already had more friends than Yuri without even trying.

“Don’t be like that Isa,” JJ reprimanded blinking soulful blue eyes at her before back to Yuri as he inquired, “Do you want to sit with us Yuri?”

Yuri glanced at him before to Isabella at his side. He wanted to say no, would’ve several days ago. He didn’t have time to deal with overly happy rich kids with no problem in the world, but he’d been concerning Victor as of late. He needed friends.

Also, he enjoyed messing with Isabella.

“Of course,” Yuri agreed like an idiot, eyes focused on Isabella even though he was technically speaking to JJ.

Isabella’s eyes narrowed into a glare, but she didn’t dare argue. JJ only acted friendly to everyone he came in contact with. In actuality he wasn’t afraid to be crude or tell Isabella off for going too far.

JJ grinned like an idiot and started babbling about nothing. Yuri smiled politely but kept his gaze on Isabella, looking for signs of annoyance. She was ignoring him, though, like she did most people that JJ socialized with. She did keep one hand possessively pressed around JJ’s bicep, Yuri noted victoriously.

Not that it mattered. Class started and JJ had to shut up and soon Yuri was able to drift to the fact that Victor’s new roommate was coming over for a test. Mila was going to make sure he wasn’t so creepy weirdo, though if Victor was to be trusted (and Yuri learned that 10 times out of 10 he was _not_ ) Yuuri would be fine.

Yuri didn’t dwell on that thought for very long, mind already switching to lost diamonds.

Victor hadn’t disclosed that information to him, but the news were run by idiots who’d rather get stories out rather than the truth. Yuri’s learned to filter fact from fiction and most of the news people liked Ice King well enough. Yuri just couldn’t be certain how dangerous Masked Phantom was capable of being.

Yuri couldn’t focus too much on that- too many what ifs and too easy to get things mixed around- but the diamonds remained a crucial part of the investigation. Yuri could work with missing diamonds.

Unfortunately, JJ seemed capable of smelling weakness a mile away and took advantage of his distraction. That was why, Yuri would tell himself later, he ended up sitting with the duo for lunch and then in the schoolyard when the day was over.

“I’ve enjoyed today,” JJ noted while Yuri stood glaring at him; he’s been late getting home before and as long as he stayed within the thirty minute buffer Yuri’s forced Victor to accept then he’d be fine.

Standing with JJ- listening to JJ- made Yuri want to be on time for once. It made him want to listen to Victor go on and on about absolutely nothing or talk with the man who’d Victor allowed to move in with them because they were low on money and Victor refused to get a damn job.

“I need to get home,” Yuri said and he thinks he interrupted JJ but couldn’t care, “My guardian worries when I’m late.”

 _Ever since I came home with blood stained on my sleeves and bruises dotting pale skin_ , Yuri didn’t say because normal people didn’t understand things like that.

JJ did smile like he understood, and Yuri wondered if he had someone waiting for him back home- someone other than Isabella.

“Of course,” JJ agreed reaching out to ruffle pale hair, “a cute little thing like you shouldn’t be wondering the streets by themselves. You could get hurt or worst.”

With Victor constantly hovering over him, not much worst could happen. Victor may be an idiot, but he’s a very powerful loyal one. Nothing too terrible was ever going to happen to him, of that Yuri was certain.

Yuri shifted his backpack strap further on his shoulder as he grumbled, “I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

JJ grinned- like an idiot he actually smiled. Yuri wanted to punch him in his perfect teeth.

“Of course,” JJ agreed, “but we’re friends now and friends keep each other company, and I will not take no as an answer. Come. Let’s go.”

Yuri ground the back of his teeth together but didn’t argue. He just trudged silently, listening to JJ prattle on about something or Isabella offering JJ conversation when Yuri didn’t. It wasn’t completely miserable, though it was difficult to focus on the missing diamonds for too long.

“This is it,” Yuri finally declared three blocks from his apartment, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

JJ looked hesitant- like he could tell he was lying- but he smiled anyways and agreed with a nod, “Yeah. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

{…}

“Are you an idiot?”

Yuuri pulled the phone from his ear with a flinch. Phichit rarely got angry, but when he did it was a sight to behold- a terrifying spectacle Yuuri wished to avoid.

“Phichit, I needed a place to stay,” Yuuri reasoned though he couldn’t figure why Phichit would be angry about where Yuuri chose to live.

“It’s not about that Yuuri. The diamonds, moving to the one place where there’s someone capable of stopping you,” Phichit listed and Yuuri swallowed when he realized he legitimately had a reason to be angry with him for, “I thought you were smarter than that.”

Anyone else Yuuri would’ve gotten angry. It wasn’t just anybody, though, it was Phichit- the only person who’d ever been remotely loyal to him. The only person Yuuri ever considered calling a friend. It made getting angry hard- especially when he figured Phichit was right to be angry.

“That’s not everything,” Yuuri admitted though he wasn’t sure _why_ , “I met with Ice King, tried convincing him to back down.”

“ _Yuuri!_ ” Phichit’s voice was small and shrill through the phone and Yuuri jerked the phone away so he wouldn’t go deaf.

“Phichit,” Yuuri tried to reason because it was unnerving him how angry his friend was being, “I wanted to give him a chance to back off. I can’t afford to have someone like that constantly breathing down my neck.”

He heard Phichit suck in a deep breath, could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose or fiddle with one of his colorful pens. He was stressed, and Yuuri had caused that. Tension curled around his gut as the loathing returned.

“How’d that turn out?” Phichit inquired, and Yuuri swallowed as he remembered the meeting; he’d gotten overzealous and overly confident and had been foolish.

He was fortunate the Ice King hadn’t lobed his head off on the spot or froze some valuable body part. Not when he’d threatened the person the hero cared for, whoever that was.

“He declined,” was what Yuuri offered because involving Phichit made him feel sick inside.

“Yuuri. No offense but you’re an idiot,” Phichit chided though he sounded calmer than before, “Going against the Ice King by yourself? He’s a legend- adored by everyone _including_ my boss. They want me to depict you as the villain.”

Yuuri scoffed because Phichit always made him feel like something greater than what he’d allowed himself to become. Yuuri wasn’t a fool, though, he knew villain was a fitting enough word for himself.

“No Yuuri,” Phichit denied surprisingly passionate, “I’m not doing that to you- no matter what people want. I’m just worried about you buddy. I don’t like you being alone.”

“And I’m not,” Yuuri reassured, “Just be careful. Promise me.”

“Only if you do,” came the predictable response.

Yuuri released a heavy sigh before he indulged, “I promise. Now I’ve got to go, I’m meeting with Victor and this other Yuri soon.”

Phichit was silent so long Yuuri worried that he hung up without a goodbye or acknowledgement of Yuuri’s rare show of weakness.

_Don’t show any weakness Yuuri. People will take advantage of you, and we wouldn’t want that. Would we?_

“I wouldn’t want to keep you wanting Yuuri,” Phichit’s voice reassured, “Be good.”

Despite himself, Yuuri smiled at the words. It was one of those things Phichit drew out from him, and it was one of those things Yuuri knew was dangerous but he couldn’t find it himself to stop- like a pyro playing with fire.

“Always Phichit,” Yuuri agreed and it almost sounded convincing, “You know this.”

Phichit snorted and Yuuri could picture him clearly, eyes wide and mouth slightly open and everything about his posture indicating that he wanted to say more. He didn’t, though, and Yuuri tried not to think about that too hard. About how he was _changing_ the man on the other end of the phone.

“Be good too Phichit,” Yuuri muttered even though Phichit had already hung up.

Yuuri sucked in a deep breath, taking his phone from his ear. Idly he wondered- like he always did after speaking to Phichit- if he _knew_. Then he’d always discard the thought because he wasn’t even sure what it was Phichit was supposed to know. He kept Yuuri’s secret so Yuuri kept him around for conversation purposes- nothing more, nothing less.

 _Get yourself together Katsuki_ , he chided himself because now was no time for pondering and he needed to get himself together before meeting with Victor.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he needed this place. After the strange man had left the diner he’d looked into the apartment he found on the flyer. It wasn’t earning five stars any time soon but it was quiet and the landlady never asked questions unless pressed. Plus the rent wasn’t terrible.

Though he wasn’t sure what he thought about Victor. He tried googling him, but not much came from it. It was like Phichit had said- he was reclusive.

_I only know him because he’s so beautiful._

And there wasn’t denying that, but he was also friendly. Kind and good and pure and Yuuri couldn’t picture himself living with someone like that, but the landlady was apparently choosy and Yuuri couldn’t swing a single apartment- not without raising any avoidable questions first.

So he sucked in a deep breath, readjusted his glasses on his face and started towards the apartment. When he arrived he was surprised to find a red haired woman answering the door. She was pretty and young but it still caught Yuuri off-guard.

“Um…” he muttered, racking his brain and trying to remember if Victor gave any indication rather the other Yuri was male or female.

He’d been almost certain…

“I’m Mila,” she greeted sticking her hand out and beaming at him brightly, “I work for Lilia.”

“Oh. Sorry,” Yuuri apologized feeling like an idiot, “I must have the wrong address.”

She leaned against the doorframe, small frown playing across her features. Yuuri swallowed down the rising feeling of _threat, danger_ because she didn’t look all that dangerous. It was just something about her eyes- cold and hard like antifreeze.

“Not if you’re this Yuuri Victor asked me to watch out for,” Mila corrected and her eyes were serious as she peered at him, “You look like how Victor said you’re supposed to. You’re certainly attractive enough.”

Heat rose to Yuuri’s cheeks unconsciously. Victor thought he was attractive, but he set that aside because he was sure Mila wasn’t supposed to be sharing that information.

Her eyes narrowed at him before a broad smile crossed her features and she beamed, “You’re funny Yuuri. I like you.”

She punched his arm, and surprisingly it hurt.

Yuuri stared back- wide eyed in his shock- as he tried to discern rather or not she was a user. It was a difficult task- one he’s yet to master. He was almost certain she wasn’t, though.

Her hand moved away, waving itself in the air as she continued, “Unfortunately for you Lilia doesn’t approve of a third roommate- _especially_ not a foreigner.”

A rock dropped in Yuuri’s stomach as he asked, “Why not?”

Mila shrugged as she explained simply, “Victor and Yuri mean a lot to her despite their complicated history. I can’t really blame her. They’re my friends, and I’d hurt anyone who hurts them.”

Her smile never left her face, but her eyes were narrowed. She wasn’t suggesting anything or implying something- it was an outright _threat_. A chill crept down Yuuri’s spine and he wondered once more who this Mila truly was.

“Who’s at the door?” Victor’s sweet voice asked from somewhere in the apartment and Mila shifted, allowing him view.

Victor’s entire face lit up at the sight of him and Yuuri couldn’t help but wonder how someone could get that excited to see someone they hardly knew. From over Victor’s shoulder, Yuuri could see Mila’s knowing smirk.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed happily as he smiled brightly at him, “Welcome back! I have a key for you today!”

Yuuri’s smile softened at the genuine happiness in his voice. Yesterday Yuuri left because he hadn’t _quite_ been approved and he didn’t think it wise to stick around with a minor sleeping in the apartment. He’d moved all his stuff in already, of course. Now he was unsure if that had been a wise move.

Mila let Victor give him the key with just a knowing look in her eyes, though. Her smile never left her face, and her eyes even softened when Victor entered the room. Whenever she caught his eye her smile darkened and he found himself smiling back at her.

“Well I’ll get out of your hair,” Mila announced as Victor ushered him in the apartment, hands fluttering around them like Victor wasn’t sure where they belonged, “You two have some getting to know each other nonsense to get through.”

It was the first time Victor seemed to realize she was there.

“Thank you Mila,” he said and a knowing look passed between them- one Yuuri wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to understand.

She just nodded and called, “Tell Yuri hello for me!”

Then she was gone. Victor didn’t even bat an eye as he continued speaking, blue eyes twinkling with excitement. Yuuri wasn’t really listening, just sat on the couch and would politely nod every once in a while.

His mind was on Mila and her threat. It was one of those few things Yuuri knew he should take seriously, even though she didn’t appear to look like much. It was the same feeling he got when he saw Victor staring at that stranger in the diner.

The same expression Victor got when he suddenly cut off whatever he was saying to mutter, “He should’ve been home by now.”

“The other Yuri?” Yuuri inquired gently and Victor must’ve forgot he was there because blue eyes widened as the other male regarded him.

“Yeah,” Victor replied as he continued staring at him with that strange look of his.

Yuuri shifted, suddenly uncomfortable. He couldn’t place it but something about the man set Yuuri on the edge, and he had to swallow back the urge to lash out with his ability.

Fortunately, the door swung open and Victor was otherwise distracted. He turned towards the door, catching sight of the blonde teenager who dropped his backpack by the doormat.

“What kept you?” Victor demanded- voice tight and on the verge of anger.

The boy- Yuri, probably- returned Victor’s look with surprising bite before blue eyes flickered over to Yuuri and he said simply, “You must be the room stealing piggy.”

“ _Yuri_ ,” Victor chided, suddenly resigned and almost fatherly, “Play nice. This is Yuuri. Our new roommate.”

Yuri crossed his arms, unimpressed. Yuuri shuffled uncomfortable but he didn’t feel threatened- not when he _knew_ the kid was underestimating him in so many ways. So Yuuri just gave the youth a smug smile Victor had to have missed because his back was to Yuuri.

Yuri wasn’t paying him any attention either, backs of his teeth grinding together as he snarled back, “ _Victor_.”

Victor’s look must’ve gone through because the next moment Yuri gave a resigned sigh and grumbled, “ _Fine_. Hello Yuuri.”

It sounded painful and Yuri was still glaring, but Yuuri gave him a kind patient smile anyways. The kid was a punk, and it was almost adorable if not slightly annoying.

Victor seemed pleased with himself as he clapped Yuri on his back and exclaimed, “Great! See, we’re already getting along!”

Yuri gave him an incredulous look, shoulders hunched from the weight of Victor’s hand. It was obvious he didn’t want to be there, and Yuuri swallowed back his unease. It wasn’t like Yuuri cared what the kid thought of him, it was just an awful feeling knowing you weren’t wanted in your own apartment.

Yuri must’ve been thinking the same thing because the next moment he announced, “I’ve got homework,” before he disappeared in Victor’s room.

Yuuri frowned as he muttered miserably, “He hates me.”

Victor’s eyes flickered back to him and he was quick to reassure, “No. No. He’s just upset at the change. He’ll get over it.”

Yuuri gave Victor a smile he didn’t feel. Victor smiled at him before making some excuse about making tea. Yuuri frowned as he watched the man move gracefully to the kitchen and it reminded him of a conversation they had last time.

“So do you know a Yakov Feltsman?” Yuuri inquired as he followed the path Victor took, watching curiously as Victor tensed.

He was bent over, hands clasped around the teakettle. Yuuri couldn’t see his face, and he couldn’t imagine what it would’ve looked like. It was interesting that the question caught the man off-guard.

As quick as it came, it disappeared.

Victor set the teakettle on the counter before turning and asking, “Why? Has he mentioned me before?”

“No,” Yuuri admitted with a tip of his head, “You seemed to have known who I was referring to when I called him your boss.”

Victor made a terrible face before he sighed and explained reasonably, “Lilia and Yakov were once married, and I’ve known them since I was a kid. Yakov gave me my first job.”

Yuuri nodded before asking curiously, “What happened?”

Victor’s fingers were clenching and unclenching at his side nervously. His eyes were cold and brittle and Yuuri wished he could’ve known what was underneath. Unfortunately, he hadn’t been granted that ability.

“We decided it was in everybody’s best interest for me to quit,” Victor shrugged and Yuuri nodded, trying to follow.

“Because you can’t skate,” Yuuri clarified, and Victor beamed and nodded and it looked so bright it was almost convincing.

“Now nyet on the questions. Would you like some tea?” Victor asked turning back to the teakettle, untrained fingers drumming unsurely against stainless steel.

Yuuri leaned against the wall as he questioned, “Do you know how to make tea?”

Victor still looked unsure as he reassured quickly, “Of course. Why? Do _you_ know how to make tea?”

Yuuri moved over to grab the teakettle and explained offhandedly, “My parents own the last hot spring resort in Hasetsu. Of course I know how to make tea.”

“That’s good,” Victor hummed moving away, “because I have no idea what I was doing.”

Yuuri chuckled softly as he moved across their kitchen. It was surprisingly very organized, and it didn’t take him very long before he figured out the system.

“Do I want to know how you’ve survived all this time?” Yuuri asked, twisting so he could see Victor watching him from the same spot Yuuri had occupied moments before.

“I’ve got Yuri,” Victor brushed off and that’s all he seemed willing to give up.

Maybe that was why Yuuri decided to press or maybe he was curious. He wasn’t sure- could hear Phichit screaming at him to be good and not pry.

Either way, Yuuri asked, “Have you known Yuri long?”

“I’m Yuri’s guardian,” Victor ground out stiffly, “though most days I feel like he’s more capable than I am.”

That caught Yuuri’s attention and he found himself press, “Does Yuri have a job?”

“Yuri is fifteen,” Victor growled and Yuuri realized he was getting irritated at the draw of conversation towards the teenager.

_Don’t show any weaknesses Victor._

“I’m sorry,” Victor abruptly apologized and Yuuri internally cringed, “Me and Yuri are both still learning how to play with others apparently.”

Yuuri’s eyebrow rose at the implication and he couldn’t help but to smile sweetly as he reassured, “Somehow I sincerely doubt that Victor Nikiforov. You’re a good man. One of the better ones I’ve met.”

Victor gave him a critical look as he inquired seriously, “You think so?”

He didn’t offer anything else, and his eyes warned Yuuri from asking too much. Something in Yuuri’s gut also warned him against pressing too much on the first day. Maybe later, as they got to know each other, he’ll approach the subject once more.

_Except there won’t be a later and you two won’t get to know each other because weaknesses are forbidden. A means to an end- nothing less, nothing more._

Yuuri turned back to the teakettle, hiding the sudden frown that crossed his face. Sometimes he really hated that tiny voice in the back of his head that nagged whenever he acted even slightly human. Victor didn’t offer any conversation either, just lurked over his shoulder as blue eyes tried to track and memorize every one of Yuuri’s movements until, finally, Yuuri was finished.

“Do you take anything in your tea?” he asked, pouring himself a glass.

Victor’s eyes continued to stare before he sighed and answered, moving away, “I don’t drink the stuff. Yuri likes his tea sweet though. Honey is on the third shelf from your right.”

Yuuri found it and added a generous portion to another mug before pouring in the tea. Traditionally he’d keep pouring the tea back and forth but decided against it as he handed the mug to Victor. Victor set it back against the counter as he kept his blue gaze on him.

“I am sorry about him,” Victor started though he looked unsure where he was going with it.

Yuuri brushed him off, sipping at the hot liquid cautiously and reassured, “Don’t worry about it. I did take his entire room apparently.”

Victor glanced away, indicating that it had been his idea and Yuri hadn’t had a say. Yuuri wasn’t going to argue too much- afraid of having to suddenly share a space. It’s not anything personal, he just had things that was better kept behind closed walls.

“I’d feel better if he slept with me,” Victor reasoned before adding without much feeling, “No offense.”

Yuuri plastered on a smile as he promised, “None taken. It can’t be easy letting a complete stranger come live with you. I could be a psycho murderer or something.”

Victor matched his smile- falling short of his eyes- as he agreed with a soft hum, “You could be, but I seriously doubt someone who would selflessly defend a complete stranger could ever be a villain. Make yourself at home. I’m going to check on Yuri.”

With that Victor picked up the mug and headed into his bedroom leaving Yuuri standing in the kitchen dumbstruck.

_Selfless._

_Could ever be a villain._

_Oh Victor, if only you knew._

{…}

Victor heard the other Yuuri move to the couch where he turned on the TV. It was quiet enough that he couldn’t tell what he was what watching, but it didn’t matter. His focus was back on Yuri, books and papers spread out across Victor’s bed. Makkachin was curled up at his side, watching with lazy eyes.

“I really wish you weren’t being antisocial,” Victor chided, setting the mug on the nightstand.

Yuri didn’t even look up, barely flinched. He was the same five years ago, after being dropped off by his last living relative, all sharp edges and biting looks. Victor had been more than willing to give everything Yuri had and their relationship was rocky at best.

 _The offer still stands_ , Chris had said the night before and Yuri denied him again.

“Are you speaking to me or the dog?” Yuri snapped as Victor settled on an empty space on the bed- his place beside the prudent blond.

“Both.”

Victor reached out to stroke Makkachin behind the ears. Almost instantly the dog perked up, wagging his tail excitedly. Yuri snorted, finally looking away.

“I’m sorry I was late getting home from school. JJ somehow got it into his idiotic brain that we’re friends now or something,” Yuri apologized in a low growl, eyes burning as he thought of JJ.

Victor smiled as he reached out to tuck Yuri’s small frame against his. Yuri gave him an incredulous look but complied nevertheless.

“Are you friends?” Victor inquired curiously, enjoying the feeling of Yuri pressed against him where it was safe.

He hadn’t been lying in the kitchen. He didn’t think Yuuri had a bad heart or held any sort of ill intention towards either of him- just like he knew that if he did Victor would stop him before he got to Yuri. He’d prove just how awful Victor Nikiforov could truly be, and he wouldn’t even feel bad for marring such an attractive face.

Yuri just picked at his papers nervously as he ground out furiously, “Of course not. He’s a complete and utter shithead.”

“ _Yuri_ ,” Victor chided and the youth’s cheeks flamed in embarrassment.

“Sorry but he is an idiot,” Yuri corrected obediently, “I only hung out with them all day because it drives Isabella crazy. She’s his _super_ clingy girlfriend or something- definitely the jealous type.”

Victor smiled, hearing what Yuri wasn’t saying, as he breathed, “I’m glad you’re making friends. It’s been awhile since you’ve had any.”

And Yuri was silent a long time- long enough that Victor thought what was about to come out of his mouth would be acidic and rude.

Instead, he only murmured softly- like he was embarrassed, “ _Stupid_ Victor.”


	5. Diamonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life continues with a new person living amongst them- something Yuri learns to be difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eh. Yuri isn't in the best of mind. Be warned.
> 
> Minor past death mentioned also.

Having a third roommate was strange, especially considering when Yuri rolled out of bed- with Victor’s ridiculous snores following him- the apartment already smelt like breakfast. Good breakfast too, the ones Yuri always enjoyed whenever Victor manages to save enough to take him on a vacation.

 _Guess those are over too_ , he thought bitterly even though he knew that wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t Yuuri’s fault Victor was being a stubborn ass over this. It wasn’t Yuuri’s fault that, instead of getting a job, Victor decided to invite another person into their lives. And it certainly wasn’t Yuuri’s fault that some tiny part of Yuri did like him because he’d stepped in when it looked like Victor was in danger.

“Good morning Yuri,” Yuuri chirped when he saw him watching from the living room with a ridiculous smile on his pudgy faces.

He was handsome, in a weird way, and his body was slender but not like Yuri or Victor’s. Yuuri’s seemed more filled out and Yuri felt a stab of jealousy at yet another trivial thing.

He knew it was unfair- knew he was acting like a brat- so he sucked in a breath and gritted out, “What are you cooking?”

Yuuri didn’t seem fazed as he turned back to the stove and explained cryptically, “Breakfast. Can you set the table? Victor should be up soon so he can eat together before you have to go to school.”

Yuri gave the man’s back a droll stare before moving to gather the plates even as he accused, “You don’t know Victor very well.”

Victor is never up before the sun, and Yuri always has to leave him carefully wrapped leftovers in the fridge for whenever he did manage to crawl himself free from his covers. Then he’d have to sprint to school because he always waited, wanted that to be the day Victor got up just to tell him bye.

Yuuri gave him a surprised look as he inquired innocently enough, “Victor’s never seen you off to school?”

Yuri didn’t met his gaze- refused because it wasn’t fair and he didn’t need his pity- as he replied dryly, “No.”

“Oh,” Yuuri turned back to what he was cooking before he asked, “Have you ever tried waking him up?”

“To tell me bye?” Yuri demanded with a raised eyebrow and thin mouth, “No. Besides, Victor sleeps like the dead. Nothing is waking him up anytime soon.”

Yuuri glanced back at his dish before Yuri and back again and he seemed to have come to a decision because he said, “It’s ready so help yourself. I’m going to wake Victor.”

Yuri shook his head but didn’t feel like arguing. In truth, Yuri tried waking Victor once but the man had slapped him away before rolling deeper under the covers. It had hurt more than he thought it would, and he’d suddenly remembered why after his parents he swore to never become close to anyone ever again.

Maybe that was why his grandpa dropped him off here- that particular argument sticking out more than any of the others- and maybe that was why he’d never came back like he said he would. He just left Yuri here and despite everything Yuri told himself Victor made it impossible to _not_ care.

He’d just sat down with a fork in hand when Yuuri returned looking pleased with himself. A well-earned feet considering Victor soon followed after, still groggy and bleary eyed. He smiled at Yuri when he saw him, setting a hand on his shoulder as he passed.

Yuri stuffed whatever Yuuri cooked into his mouth and swallowed past another sting of jealousy- just another thing Yuuri was better at then him.

{…}

“I have to work so if you could please clean the kitchen that would be appreciated,” Yuuri asked of Victor without really asking but then he thought better and he added shyly, “Unless you don’t want to in which case that is totally fine and I’ll get to it later or-”

Victor smiled before reassuring, “I’ll do it.”

Yuuri gave him a grateful smile behind the ridiculous amounts of layers he was wearing. Victor always found it amusing- how people dress whenever they visit Russia. With Yuuri it was almost endearing.

He smiled back but then that bubble of apprehension filled his stomach once more and he ventured unsurely, “So what exactly is Yakov employing you to do?”

Yuuri gave him a strange look before turning back around to gather his things and shrugged, “I teach the little kids how to ice skate. You know before I left home I was the top figure skater certified by the JSF.”

Victor whistled as he nodded, “That _is_ impressive. Any particular reason you left?”

Yuuri’s shoulders tensed, and Victor was momentarily worried he’d punctured a nerve. Then Yuuri turned to regard him with hard brown eyes, and it was the same look that always made Victor uncomfortable. Yuuri turned away and the moment was gone but the uneasy feeling still lingered.

That was how he almost missed Yuuri as he explained, “My dad got sick, and I had to quit skating to help my mom work the resort. He eventually got better, but I never returned. Eventually I found myself just needing to leave Japan and here I am.”

He shrugged and smiled, all cute dimples and rosy cheeks, and Victor couldn’t remember how he could ever look at him and think he was dangerous.

“Well Russia is all the better for it,” Victor replied and Yuri’s peeved voice piped up in the back of his head calling him an idiot; Victor found himself agreeing.

Yuuri’s smile fell as he gathered his things once more and decided, “I’m going to be late for work. I’ll see you later.”

“Of course,” Victor agreed, and Yuuri disappeared out the door.

{…}

Isabella was clinging onto JJ’s arm as she batted her eyes up at him. He didn’t seem to notice- because he’s an _idiot_ \- as he continued to stare at him. His eyes made Yuri shift uncomfortably in his seat, the teacher’s voice droning around them.

Yuri tried to ignore them- wasn’t sure why he could feel their eyes so distinctly on the back of his neck. It was like ants crawling over his skin- harmless while upholding a constant threat of danger. He wanted to swat at it but knew that would only make him look like a fool.

So instead he tried distracting himself with thoughts of Yuuri and Victor and how Victor looked at him- like he was some sort of hero. All Yuri saw when he gazed at the Japanese man was the person who just appeared in their lives and fit in so perfectly. Everything Victor had always looked for.

Yuri scrubbed at his face in denial.

He was jealous- he knew that- and that jealousy was making him exaggerate most things. He also knew that there was _something_ in Yuuri that made him uneasy, but some part of him was willing to overlook it on account of the fact that he’d protected Victor.

He groaned lowly, rubbing at his eyes now.

Victor’s made him stupid- made him care about things- and he’s never even noticed because he’s dense. Idiot and stupid but surprisingly kind- even before, when his grandpa first left him in his care and Victor took every opportunity to prove he didn’t like him.

He never kicked him out or raised any of his hands against him. His sharpest weapon had always been his words, and Yuri was no stranger in dealing with insults- especially considering the bullying had been way worst up until Yuri snapped a guy’s wrist for suggesting certain things about Victor. No one really messed with him after that.

And now JJ was staring at him like he could sense his thoughts, and Yuri had never been more relieved to hear the bell than at that moment. He gathered his books quickly, scurrying out the door before JJ or Isabella could remember his name.

He disappeared into the bathroom where he propped his feet against the stall door and took out his phone. He shouldn’t skip class, he knew. The school would call Victor, and Victor would get all worried and fretful and go around telling anyone who’d listen that he was a terrible guardian.

Yuri _knew_ he shouldn’t do that. It wasn’t fair to Victor but jealousy clouded his thoughts. Jealousy made him irrational.

Then he thought of Yuuri and Yuuri comforting Victor and Yuuri just speaking in those soft caring tones he used. He was on his feet in an instant, making it to class before the bell rang. The teacher gave him a strange look, but Yuri ignored him.

He sat in the only available seat- on the other side of where JJ and Isabella were sitting. JJ craned his neck, trying to catch sight of him. Yuri ignored him, slumping in his seat moodily. He didn’t pay much attention in that class either.

His mind kept drifting until the bell rang and JJ grabbed his arm on his way up, frowning down at him. Yuri said nothing, just jerked his arm free and glared. Isabella immediately latched onto JJ’s arm, watching with an indifferent expression.

“He doesn’t seem to like us all that much JJ,” she noted, eyes never leaving Yuri as she regarded him with a cold stare.

Yuri stared back, hackles raising on the back of his arms and neck. He felt like he had all those years ago when he was ten, and users broke into their house and killed his father. His mother they had wanted alive but had accidently been killed when she intervened the attack against Yuri. He’d felt the same when he’d first seen Victor- had seen the way the blue in his eyes burned.

 _Fire is always hottest where its blue_ , his grandpa had just shrugged off as an explanation.

“He seems kind of pale,” JJ noted with a tinge of concern and his hand reached out to touch his face as he asked, “Are you alright Yuri?”

Yuri stepped away, eyes finding JJ’s and he snarled, “I’m fine. Leave me _alone_.”

“Why do you wish to be alone Yuri?” Isabella demanded and her voice was sweet but her face was not; it was hard and cold and threatening.

Because being around them was bringing out memories he’d rather keep hidden. Because- for five years- Victor had always been that one person he felt safe and loved and now some Japanese pig was proving even that had been a lie. His mother had been the only person to ever love Yuri, and she died protecting him.

“Come on JJ. We’re making a scene,” Isabella’s voice suddenly pressed, and Yuri opened his mouth to agree but nothing came out.

“ _No_ Isa,” JJ growled as he jerked free of her hold, “He’s freaking out. We need to get him to the infirmary.”

“You know that’s not what he needs,” Isabella snapped but her eyes didn’t seem as aloof as they had been before.

That was when Yuri realized his breathing was wrong. Worse he was allowing JJ to touch him and when he opened his mouth to protest small croaked sounds were the only thing to leave it. It was like he was trapped, divided- then and now- and he couldn’t decide which was worst.

He was a child crying for his parents as the users who’d taken them crowded around him with sharp smiles and threats still lingering in their eyes. Some were cursing- _they killed the woman, how was they supposed to blackmail Moscow’s protector now?_ \- others were laughing, mocking the suddenly poor orphan.

And he was standing in the middle of the empty classroom wearing the ridiculous uniform struggling to breathe. Students- classmates Yuri vaguely recognized- were starting to crowd the door but Isabella was also screaming at them so they kept their distance.

He was scared and vulnerable and he wanted his mom but his mom was _dead_ -

“ _Yuri_ ,” JJ’s voice called to him and he finally worked up the nerve to wrap his arms from behind as he commanded, “Breath with me Yuri. It’s easy. In. Out. In. Out. Just like that. That’s it. You’re okay. I’m here. You’re okay.”

“Victor,” Yuri begged once he had enough sense to speak again and hearing his voice shocked him but JJ squeezed him tighter.

Isabella’s eyes met JJ’s- who was a little off to the side of Yuri’s shoulder- and she nodded before moving away. She was yelling but Yuri couldn’t understand the words, could barely hear JJ telling him to breathe and reassuring him that it was okay and that Victor would be here soon.

“No,” Yuri sobbed with a shake of his head, “No Victor.”

JJ didn’t let go and his voice remained gentle as he reasoned, “Yuri, you just had a panic attack. You shouldn’t stay in school.”

Yuri squeezed his eyes shut- trying to refocus the world, and _why was it so hard dammit-_ as he shook his head once more and muttered, “I don’t care. No Victor.”

Isabella returned with the nurse and some other teachers who tried taking Yuri from JJ’s arms. By then his head was clear enough that he realized they were on the floor, JJ wrapping him from behind and holding him tight against his chest supportingly. His arms tightened when the adults reached for Yuri.

“JJ,” Isabella reprimanded and there was more in that then just a jealous girlfriend but Yuri didn’t have time to decipher it as he was pulled on his feet, JJ still holding him.

“He shouldn’t be left alone right now. He doesn’t want Victor,” JJ explained and Yuri was grateful for his presence though he’d never admit _that_ out loud.

“Regardless _Jean_ , Victor is his guardian and it is protocol to contact him. Come along Yuri. You can wait in the nurse’s station.”

Hands reached for him again and Yuri pulled away, sank further into JJ’s embrace. It was embarrassing but JJ seemed to take it in stride, pulling him to him as he glared at the adults.

“Then I’m going to go with him until Victor gets here,” JJ decided and didn’t wait for anybody to say anything before they were moving down the hall; Yuri let him drag him along as he forced himself to focus on the present and nothing else.

 _It happened a long time ago Plisetsky_ , he chided himself bitterly but the words didn’t make him feel any better.

JJ sat him on the bed furthest from the door, taking the chair beside it as he took guard. Yuri stared him for a long moment as he realized why Isabella was so in love with him. The thought made him expectantly angry.

“You didn’t have to come here,” Yuri grumbled sourly and he was so sure JJ was going to turn and frown and go off on him about being a brat to someone who’d stepped forward to help him while everyone else was gawking like idiots.

 _Maybe a misjudged you Leroy_ , Yuri thought- the words on the tip of his tongue and all JJ needed to do to hear them was to get angry.

JJ was an idiot, though, because instead of all that he smiled gently at him. Yuri flinched back, eyes dropping to his blankets.

“Don’t worry about this Yuri,” JJ reassured instead of yelling or lecturing him on manners like he knew he deserved, “I won’t let anyone poke fun at you for this. It wouldn’t be fair, and I’ll crush them before they get the chance.”

Yuri didn’t want to hear that. He wanted a reason to get angry, an outlet for all his built up fury, without making himself feel like a jerk at the end of the day. Yakov had once suggested ice skating but Victor was quick to put an end to that. Fortunately too considering some of Yuri’s fondest memories as a child was his grandpa taking him ice skating.

He had a natural talent for it too, but the day his parents died was the day their kid had as well. Whatever survived was what Yuri was now.

_Stupid. Selfish. Brat._

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Yuri ground out, voice strong and unwavering, as he twisted his hands anxiously around his wool blanket.

“It’s only fair,” JJ reasoned either missing his point or avoiding it completely, “You sat with me when I took that leap out the window on a stupid dare. Now I sit with you until your guardian Victor comes.”

Yuri glared once more but he knew it was pathetic. The guy had just talked him through a panic attack and lingered, he was almost certain nothing was going to scare him off at the moment.

“What just happened-” Yuri started to explain, had seen that in the movies the characters always have to explain or the people around them will grow frustrated, but he found the words were harder than they should be.

JJ just held his palm up as he reassured, “Don’t worry about it. We all have ghosts we lock away- it’s not our fault when they escape.”

Maybe he already knew. Maybe he felt sorry for him. That thought stung more than any of the others and, suddenly, Yuri was angry again.

“Well I’m not your charity case!” Yuri snapped, all his emotions and insecurities coming out with the words and still JJ did not yield.

_Stubborn jackass._

“And you’ll never be,” JJ promised as he leaned back to regard Yuri with his eyes, “That I can ensure you.”

{…}

Victor wasn’t happy, growling in the back of his throat as JJ introduced himself. JJ didn’t take any heed to it as he kept chirping happily, the nurse having to drag him from the room. Yuri watched it indifferently, unsure if he was relieved or upset at JJ’s sudden absence.

He didn’t get a chance to ponder it as the next moment he was engulfed in Victor’s arms. He let himself sink into the gesture, melting against the older male’s chest- a luxury he rarely spoiled himself with.

It was over too soon. Victor pulled away, talking to him and the people around them at the same time and Yuri just sat there blinking like an idiot. It was one of those few times Victor looked his age, and it made Yuri want to roll over as he realized it was because of him.

 _You’re making him old Yuri_ , his brain chided him and it always sounded like the worst thing he could ever do to Victor.

Yuri didn’t speak- not in the office, not in the car, and not on their couch as Victor curled him up against his side and held him- so Victor did enough of it for both of them. He kept talking and talking until it reached a certain time and he frowned as he glanced at the clock.

“Yuuri should be home by now,” Victor noted and Yuri hummed as he continued stroking Makkachin’s ears.

Victor stood abruptly- yanking on silver hair- as he pulled out his phone. He wasn’t happy with whoever he called so Yuri figured it must have been Yakov. Finally he cursed before tossing his phone back on the couch. Yuri blinked up at him, Makkachin taking Victor’s vacated spot happily.

Victor stared back at him before sighing and explained anciently, “Georgi didn’t show up today so Yuuri is covering his shift.”

“You should’ve told him,” Yuri piped up knowingly, “He would’ve let Yuuri go almost immediately. Probably would’ve showed up here himself.”

Victor’s face melted into a soft frown as he replied, “It wasn’t mine to tell Yura,” but before Yuri got a chance to refute _that_ Victor’s phone vibrated once more.

It was his alarm, the screen flashing announcing some mundane danger. Victor’s cold stare gazed down at it but he didn’t move to acknowledge it. Yuri knew he wouldn’t- not properly at least- and it wasn’t fair to keep him more than he already had. Besides, Yuri needed to start looking into some things and he couldn’t with Victor dangling off of him.

“Go,” Yuri said simply, unmoving.

Victor stared at him, and he looked ready to protest. He probably would have if Yuri had given him the chance.

“I’m fine,” Yuri promised before adding reasonably, “I’m pretty sure the worst had passed several hours ago. They need you now, though.”

Victor swallowed as a look of self-contempt crossed his features even as he reassured, “Yuuri should be home within the next hour. If not go find Lilia or Mila.”

Yuri nodded dutifully, _needing_ Victor out of the house for Victor’s own sake. He still looked unsure even as he cupped Yuri’s face in his hands and brought his head up to bury a gentle kiss amongst the pale hair- a promise lingering there.

Yuri closed his eyes, willed himself to be strong. Victor left without another word.

{…}

“What’re you up to?” Yuuri inquired sweetly before the door shut behind him, surprised to find Yuri curled up on the couch.

Makkachin was curled at his feet warmly, a white blanket draped over his legs. The kid had the laptop in his lap, papers strewn messily around him. He glanced up only at Yuuri’s voice, pale eyes smoldering with a fury only he could feel.

It wasn’t the first time Yuuri marveled at just how pale the teen was- pale hair, pale skin, pale eyes. It reminded Yuuri of the diamonds he safely tucked away where no one would ever reach.

“Nothing,” the teen replied and it sounded apathetic but Yuuri heard the underlying unease in the words; whatever it was he didn’t want Yuuri to know about it.

Not that Yuuri cared what little children did in their free time. Yuri wasn’t a child, though, and he could pose as big a threat as Ice King- whoever he was.

“How was school?” he tried instead moving to start a pot of tea, “Learn anything exciting?”

Yuri was silent for so long Yuuri would’ve figured he was ignoring him except he could feel his eyes boring into his skin. It was strange- how a human child could unnerve him as much as Yuri Plisetsky did- a fact made worse at the realization that with a few words Victor would be kicking Yuuri out on his sorry arse.

 _You’d like that, wouldn’t you?_ Yuuri thought contritely, though Victor hadn’t yet so it was safe to assume Yuri hadn’t either.

_You know what they say about assuming things, don’t you sweet Yuuri?_

Yuuri swallowed, so caught up in his thoughts that he almost missed Yuuri respond, “School is never exciting.”

The response placed a surprising smile to Yuuri’s face. It was strange- the warm feeling that fluttered around in his stomach. It reminded him of the feeling he got whenever Phichit worried over him or whenever Victor smiled that gorgeous smile at him, and Yuuri wasn’t a fool. He knew that feeling would be the undoing of all of them if Yuuri wasn’t careful.

_Calm your breathing. Everything is fine. In. Out. In. Out._

“Do you have many friends?” Yuuri asked just to deter his thoughts from the dangerous path he was allowing them to venture.

Yuri went silent and still and when Yuuri chanced a look back at the youth he found pale eyes boring into him. He was searching for something, and Yuuri worried if he looked too hard he’d find it. Yuuri moved away from the stove, digging through the cabinets for honey and spoons. Those eyes followed him, missing nothing.

_He’s more dangerous than the other one Yuuri. You know what you must do._

“Shut up,” Yuuri snarled slamming a cup against the counter before he realized he’d just spoken aloud; he turned quickly back to Yuri, who was still staring.

Yuri’s mouth opened as if to say something- something mean and terrible, no doubt- but he shut it with nothing coming out. His head tilted to the side as he continued to stare, watching him with an unreadable expression.

Yuuri curled his fingers around the countertop, willing himself to think of something- anything- to say to the youth. The tension in the room grew and Yuuri chewed at his bottom lip as he tried sucking it all back into him.

“You know,” Yuri said pointedly crawling from the couch silently and he padded across the room without a sound, “This is why Victor doesn’t do the dishes. He never puts them back in their place.”

He opened a cabinet and handed Yuuri the thing of honey. Yuuri grasped at it gratefully but Yuri’s eyes were still unreadable, and he couldn’t rule out the possibility of him piecing it together. Yuuri had made it so _easy_.

“Thanks,” Yuuri said, voice hollow.

Yuri tipped his head to the side before moving back to the couch. He didn’t offer anything else, didn’t seem to like he wanted to speak with him. Most of the tension had dissipated once Yuri neared him, though.

_Most curious indeed. You’ve found yourself a fine specimen Yuuri._

Yuuri didn’t bother telling the voice to shut up- knew he shouldn’t have the first time. He silently vowed to do better, and when he made it back to the teakettle he couldn’t remember why he’d been agitated.

Later- once he freed himself of the apartment and its nosy inhabitants- Phichit will theorize something about undercover jitters. Fun at first but the slightest hint of a blown cover will render one’s tongue useless. Suddenly you couldn’t remember what your name’s supposed to be or what your story was.

Yuuri would just remind him that he wasn’t undercover, and that he hadn’t taken a new name. Phichit would then look at him and shrug and claim that undercover work and double lives weren’t that much different. Then he’d call him an idiot when Yuuri shuffled in his seat and told him what he’d said next.

“Where’s Victor?”

Yuri’s eyes were back on him and they were glowing in feral rage- betraying his love for the silver haired man who’d given Yuuri exactly what he needed when he needed it. Someone Yuuri once knew would’ve claimed that as fate, but Yuuri had seen enough not to believe in such nonsense.

“He’s gone out. Hopefully to find himself a job,” Yuri replied- quicker than he had the other times; Yuuri frowned to himself at that realization.

“He didn’t tell you?” Yuuri inquired turning so he gauge Yuri’s face for the slightest indication.

Yuri’s face revealed nothing as he shrugged and managed offhandedly, “No.”

Yuuri’s stomach curled at that as a sick feeling started to creep through him. It was that feeling he got whenever he knew something was amiss- when someone lied or withheld information. Yuri was barely fifteen, though, incapable of such skills.

 _This world ages children faster than it used to_ , that damned voice whispered inside his head, _you know that better than most._

Yuuri moved over to where Yuri was sitting. Yuri didn’t notice, engrossed by whatever he was reading. A couple of words and it wasn’t hard to place the pieces together.

“You’re researching the missing diamonds,” Yuuri accused and Yuri spun to face him once more, “Why?”

“That’s none of your business last I checked,” Yuri reminded as he gathered his things close to his chest protectively.

_He didn’t want me to know._

_Of course not, he doesn’t trust you. Smart lad._

“That could be dangerous,” Yuuri pointed out, the quickest thing that came to his mind.

“What could I possibly be in danger from? Last I checked a little research never hurt anyone.”

Yuri wasn’t going to listen. Why should he? Yuuri wasn’t Victor. He had no pull, barely had a voice at all, but he needed to convince Yuri to stop looking without revealing too much of his own hand.

“What if someone found out?” Yuuri asked as innocently as he could, “What if _Victor_ found out?”

Yuri snorted, which hadn’t been the reaction Yuuri thought would happen. He had been quick to learn that the slightest mention of the other got the other to stop talking real quick- something he’d previously thought would come to his aid whenever he needed.

Now he knew he was wrong. He didn’t know people as well as he’d thought, apparently.

That was why he’d kept Phichit around as long as he had. Phichit could look at people’s eyes and tell him what they felt, who they loved, where they were born. Everything all through their eyes without the burden of user’s gifts.

Phichit didn’t know anything about Victor Nikiforov. He knew even less about his young ward he’d suddenly started housing five years ago.

“What’s Victor going to bloody do about it?” Yuri challenged, eyes squinting and shoulders narrowed and it was a fight Yuuri could see he was destined to lose.

He reached out, hands grasping the nape of Yuri’s neck as the youth spun back around to his research. A thousand other options flashed through Yuuri’s skull but he ignored all of them. There was only one thing he could really do- the same thing he always found himself doing.

“Sleep,” he muttered and Yuri went boneless almost immediately.

When Victor came back several hours later it was to find Yuri sleeping in the backroom with all previous evidence of the teen’s research gone. Victor just gave a heavy sigh, sat at the table and told him of how Yuri had a panic attack at school. Yuuri listened to it all wordlessly, sipping cautiously at his tea.


	6. Ice Divas are Amateurs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor asks Yuuri the hard questions. Or perhaps not.

Phichit fumbled in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. His hands sought out his colored pens so he could fix them in ways only he could comprehend. Yuuri let him, sipping the coffee from the other side of the table. He’d left Victor and Yuri sleeping in the apartment so he could speak to his friend without judgement or unfair conclusions.

“You used your _powers_ on them?” Phichit finally demanded without anger or shock- he just sounded tired and it made Yuuri frown in his cup.

“Only Yuri. He was looking into things he couldn’t even begin to hope to comprehend,” Yuuri argued though at the time he knew it’d been a panicked reaction that he had to swallow and force himself to remain calm as he carried the youth to the bedroom.

“And Victor?” Phichit inquired, eyes sharp as he accused Yuuri of being an idiotic fool to the first pretty face he encountered in Russia.

Yuuri knew Phichit wasn’t technically wrong. Some part of him interfered and then later kept the napkin Victor gave him because the man made his heart flutter awkwardly. He had swallowed that part of him down, and it was purely coincidental that taking Victor up on his offer held more pros then cons.

“Victor had been out,” Yuuri explained slowly, “When he returned he seemed grateful that Yuri was in bed.”

One of Phichit’s eyebrows rose at that as he cocked his head to the side and asked sweetly, “Did he tell you why?”

Sometimes- not often- Yuuri forgot Phichit was a reporter and a good one at that. It was so easy to slip into easy conversation with him, like they were friends. Phichit would often tell him that they were friends- at least in his mind.

Now Phichit wasn’t the friend but the reporter trying to discern the things Yuuri wasn’t saying. Yuuri couldn’t fault him on that. His powers could be draining on those he used them on, and Yuri was an innocent child.

“Yuri had a panic attack at school,” Yuuri informed him dryly and Phichit unconsciously fiddled with his pens some more as his face pinched together in serious thought.

“And the voices?” Phichit finally asked as he nervously fumbled with the pens and their caps and Yuuri’s fingers went bone white around his mug.

“ _Voice_ ,” he corrected forcefully, “There’s only one, and it hadn’t wanted me to use my powers.”

Phichit blinked and he must have understood what Yuuri was trying not to say because he murmured lowly, “Oh.”

Yuuri suddenly felt bad- felt like the monster everyone but Phichit thinks he is and life had been so much easier before all of this. He didn’t say that- _couldn’t_ say that- so he scrubbed his face before peering back at the reporter suddenly uncertain.

“I shouldn’t have said that,” Yuuri finally decided rising to his feet and throwing money for the coffee onto the table, “It was stupid of me to say anything at all. Just… _forget it_.”

Phichit didn’t stand. He didn’t suddenly leap up and say the one thing Yuuri’s been waiting his whole life to hear. He didn’t make any bold exclamations nor did he call Yuuri out for being a dense idiot. His eyes just followed him up, frown tugging at the bottom of his lips as his fingers fumbled with his damned pens.

“You’re not a villain Yuuri. You didn’t kill him.”

The words caught him through the chest, ensnaring him in a net only he could feel. It made him want to sit down and listen to all the things he’s done to prove that he does have good in him. He didn’t.

He turned away with a quick, “You must not be keeping up with the news,” before leaving.

{…}

Yakov worked at one of the nicest most advanced ice rinks Victor’s ever seen- not that he’s seen many others. Even the ones he had been too he’d still been a child and everything looked big and bright and new to a child.

Yakov’s had become like a second home, and Victor hated it.

The last time he’d gone near it was when he’d been thirteen- the day he swore he’d never return to the ice. It just came too natural, like an itch he’d never be able to cure. The ice would call him and he always knew _why_ but refused to believe that.

Powers couldn’t control the users, and Victor was in control of the ice. Until he wasn’t and nearly killed Georgi in a frightening burst of cold and frost. Georgi doesn’t even remember, but Yakov does. More than that, Victor does and it was terrifying knowing how easy a life could almost be destroyed by a simple lapse in control.

“ _I’ve got to go_ ,” Victor remembered panting before he disappeared and vowed to never return to the ice rink no matter what anybody said, and eventually they let it go; Yakov didn’t take any more students under his wing.

Victor had just been convinced that he’d never find a reason to return to the ice. Yakov tried coaxing him to take Yuri a couple of times, but Yuri would always deny it.

Now he was standing amongst the proud mothers as he watched Yuuri move. He was an excellent teacher and held a skill Victor was certain could be polished. It wasn’t hard to see but nobody was bothering to look at the teacher.

“Which one’s yours?” one of the mothers asked and he turned to see green eyes boring back at him.

He blinked, mouth dry as he tried coming up with something that didn’t make him sound like a creepy child snatcher. Unfortunately for him, there was a reason Yuri called him stupid so often.

“I’m here for the teacher,” he announced, “for um… lessons. I’ve heard he’s skilled.”

The woman beamed brightly as she bobbed her head and encouraged, “Oh yes. He’s wonderful. Ginny has learned so much from him, haven’t you Ginny?”

“ _Mum_ ,” a six-year-old girl chided as her cheeks turned rosy and it was then Victor realized the kids were dispersing.

“Victor?” Yuuri’s voice asked and instinct took over and he ducked so he was crouched behind the barrier.

The woman gave him a strange look before ushering her daughter away. Victor ignored her, willing Yuuri to forget he saw him. Maybe it was nothing. Victor was a common enough name. It could mean…

“What’re you doing Victor?” Yuuri’s voice inquired closer and Victor glanced up at see him frowning at him from above.

“I’m um…” Victor started as he rose to his feet and stared into Yuuri’s amused smirk.

“He’s thinking of lessons,” the mother chirped as she returned, clasping onto Victor’s arm with a bright smile.

Yuuri rose one of his eyebrows and glanced back at Victor. Victor shrugged, figuring that was as good as an out he was going to get.

“Well I have a break before my next class,” Yuuri suggested, and the back of Victor’s neck started to burn as he tried coming up with something clever to say.

Instead what came out was, “Okay,” and that’s how he ended up in skates on the ice with Yuuri smiling that encouraging smile at his side.

“I must say you’re balance is very good for your first time,” Yuuri cheered and Victor remembered he was supposed to be a beginner so he twisted his skates out from underneath him when he turned to face Yuuri once more.

“Oops,” he muttered dejectedly as he looked up to see the gleam in Yuuri’s eyes.

He was almost painfully polite as he bent down to pull Victor to his feet and reassured, “It’s alright. Everybody falls the first time they get on the ice.”

Not Victor. He never falls. The second his feet touch the ice it becomes a part of him and it’s so natural to slide and pivot and grace across its surface.

“I’m so sure,” Victor hummed as Yuuri helped jerk him back to his feet, “It’s so… slippery.”

Yuuri laughed, and it was a nice sound. He offered his arm, which Victor gladly accepted and together they wobbled to the middle of the ice rink. Victor forced himself to tumble over or lose his balance several times and each time Yuuri was there with a patient smile and a hand to lift him back up.

“I may have been premature on my earlier assessment,” Yuuri confided to him one time Victor tumbled over, “You are _really_ bad at this.”

Victor’s cheeks flamed and he hid it behind his arm as he cried dramatically, “Yuuri, you’re so cruel! Take it back! Say it isn’t so!”

“Sorry,” Yuuri shrugged helping Victor balance once more, “but the good news is that nobody is unteachable. I could probably help train you between my breaks.”

Victor gave him a sideways look, suddenly uncertain. He doesn’t like the sensation of falling and is unsure how soon is too soon to be able to master ice skating.

“I don’t really think that’s so wise,” Victor said instead, “I’d hate to take up your free time.”

Yuuri didn’t reply. He just gave him a pointed look as they continued to move across the ice. It was awkward, and Victor didn’t like being held down but he managed. Eventually another group of children started to arrive and Victor waved goodbye as he clumsily made his way to the exit.

He watched Yuuri for a moment longer before his phone buzzed, and he realized he was late and that Chris was going to murder him for being late. That, or laugh as the man ended up doing as he already went to strip Victor from his coat.

“So eager to undress me so soon?” Victor hummed innocently, and Chris chuckled behind him.

“You know I’m not,” Chris replied smoothly, “After all, this is a date as _just friends_.”

Victor beamed at him, grateful for the man who pulled his chair out for him and slid it back under the table with ease. Yet Victor knew that neither one of them felt _love_ for the other, and it was only because Chris was Chris that he acted the way he does in public.

That didn’t stop the knowing looks people kept giving them nor did it deter Victor from just staring at his friend. Even when their waitress- a petite blonde woman wearing a top that revealed too much and a skirt that held no secrets- bounced over to ask for his order he didn’t even glance in her direction.

“Just water is fine,” Victor brushed her off with a wave of his hand and her bottom lip puckered out in a disappointed frown.

Chris was a little more considerate as he flashed her a comforting smile and said, “Coffee for me, please.”

She nodded but her eyes remained on Victor, obviously hoping for his attention. Victor didn’t glance at her, eyes on Chris. It’s felt like forever since he last saw the man and he felt guilty by how he treated him the other night.

Chris gave her another consoling smile as she walked away before turning to Victor and chiding, “You could be nicer to women you know.”

Victor blinked before looking in the direction their waitress disappeared to with a small frown. When he found Chris’s eyes once more they were boring into him thoughtfully.

“I haven’t found one that’s interested me yet,” Victor replied with a shrug and Chris’s smile softened into a frown.

“What about that redhead that works at your apartment complex? The little firecracker of a woman?” Chris inquired with an innocent smile.

Victor’s face dropped into a frown.

“Mila? She’s like a little sister Chris,” Victor replied seriously.

Chris shrugged and muttered, “Pity,” but then the waitress returned with their drinks and asked for their order.

Chris ordered for both of them before waving the increasingly peeved girl away. Once she was out of sight Victor frowned and leaned over the table.

“She’s like half my age Chris,” Victor hissed at him, “Are you trying to get me arrested?”

“The heart wants what the heart wants,” Chris shrugged, “Besides you don’t have to commit to anything. One date couldn’t possibly kill you. You need to get out of that apartment, preferably with the company of another human being.”

“I’m here with you aren’t I?” Victor challenged, hiding a smirk behind his glass.

Chris gave an acknowledging nod as he matched Victor’s grin and sighed, “I don’t know what you do when I’m not around Vitya.”

Victor’s fingers smeared the condensation building on his glass before he admitted, “I got another roommate Chris. The financial crisis got over my head, I fear.”

Chris didn’t look surprised, though Victor knew he was. He just sipped at his coffee thoughtfully, eyes focused on his face. Victor stared back anticipating what he knew was coming next.

“They must be quite the person for you to allow him that close to the kid all the time,” Chris reasoned, and Victor shrugged.

“He’s kind and understanding and patient, but sometimes I get this strange vibe- like we’ve already met,” Victor explained, “I need him though. I don’t think the money I get from donating blood is going to cover our expenses.”

“So what now?” Chris asked with a tilt of his head.

“So I think I may have to get a job soon,” Victor murmured, fingers nervously rubbing against the glass’s surface before he chuckled darkly and asked, “Isn’t that a scary thought?”

“To be honest I never understood your pickiness towards employment,” Chris reasoned and Victor remembered that he didn’t know about Victor’s double life.

Some part of him wanted to keep it that way. The other part wanted to explain everything because Chris was one of the few people who talked to him like an actual person. Unfortunately the waitress interrupted when she brought out their food and didn’t even glance at Victor before she stomped off once more.

“I went to the ice rink today to ask Yakov for one,” Victor admitted once she disappeared, “Yuuri- my new roommate- was there and I may have given him the impression that I couldn’t ice skate.”

Chris snorted in his hand and Victor scowled back halfheartedly. He knew it sounded foolish but when he saw Yuuri on the ice he found himself feeling something he never had before.

“Now that’s a sight I’d pay good money to see,” Chris beamed at him, “The great Victor Nikiforov- the prodigy that left the world wanting more- slipping around the ice like an amateur.”

“I’m not an amateur Chris,” Victor protested though his words held no heat, “and it just sort of happened. You should see this guy. He’s-”

“I’m guessing handsome if it made you all flustered,” Chris finished before shaking his head and replying, “but I know you Victor and I know you’re not _enamored_ with him or anything.”

Victor sipped at his water considering what his friend said. He figured Chris was probably right- he usually was.

“However,” Chris continued, “if you really like this guy you should take him out on a date,” Victor felt his face brightened and Chris added with a frown, “or not. I’ve never known you to be shy Victor.”

Victor shrugged. He couldn’t explain it if he wanted to. Chris didn’t press because understanding him seemed to come so natural.

“Well I’d love to meet him whenever you decide to stop hiding him from the world,” Chris noted with an easy smile with a hard edge to it- a smile that said Chris would rip Yuuri’s throat out if he deemed his intentions toward Victor or Yuri as anything but innocent.

“No one is hiding him,” Victor protested instead before he grinned and added, “I’m thinking of asking him out. He’s new in town and it’s too lovely to not explore.”

“Please don’t tell me you’re dragging him to one of those galas that come by every year. Nobody even remembers why they’re inviting you now,” Chris groaned but he was smiling and Victor knew he approved because he always ended up with an invitation also.

“I already told Yuri I was going to take him,” Victor shrugged with the smile that’s won him so man medals as a teenager, “He needs to get out of the house more. What’s the harm of one more person?”

Chris shook his head and chuckled softly into his coffee but he didn’t say anything else. Victor took that to mean Chris would be making an appearance too.

{…}

“What? No. We can’t go,” Yuri protested after school that afternoon with a frown and firm shake of his head.

Victor frowned because- as of a couple weeks ago- the youth had been excited. Or at the very least not as reluctant as he’s prone to being.

“Why not?” Victor inquired keeping the whine from his voice because he actually got to dress nice and drink and eat stuff he would never be able to afford otherwise and not be expected to run off and save any civilians.

“Because,” Yuri gritted and his next words looked very painful, “JJ and Isabella were talking about it today. Apparently they got invitations also.”

Victor’s frown turned into a slight smirk as realization dawned on him. Sometimes it still surprised by just how unsocial Yuri was capable of being.

“Then you’ll have friends!” Victor exclaimed as he pulled Yuri down with him on the couch once the kid got near him, “Great! How’d they manage that anyways?”

Yuri struggled feebly before slumping into the cushions and shrugged, “Both their parents are rich, Victor. The gala is one of the reasons they bothered moving here.”

Victor suddenly felt cold though he couldn’t say why. His arm tightened around Yuri’s waist as he felt the youth sink into his side.

“The other reason?” Victor inquired gently, fingers tapping nervously against the youth’s side.

Yuri’s face became even more sullen as he grumbled almost sulkily, “The exposition at the end of the month. Everybody wants to see this stupid ball that’s got everyone so worked up.”

“ _Yuri_ ,” Victor chided though the words didn’t bring the anger he knew it should have, “You know why that ‘stupid ball’ is so important.”

Yuri rolled his eyes dramatically before snapping, “Of course I do, old man. Legend says it’s one of the reasons users exists. That it gave so many people their powers, and it’s one of the few things that can give or take it away.”

“ _Science_ says,” Victor corrected.

Yuri jumped to his feet to glower at him as he snapped, “Well _science_ doesn’t have much proof. Not with it hiding behind a glass case where no one can touch it. You can’t even break into it to steal the stupid thing.”

“You shouldn’t be so snippidity,” Victor chided with a narrowed gaze, “Science says it wouldn’t work because it’s only a part and nobody owns the other pieces. That’s why it’s on display. It’s a bit of history we will never be able to control.”

Yuri’s eyes never relented but after a long pause he finally just snapped, “Whatever,” before stomping off into the kitchen to make Victor coffee as an apology.

Victor let him go.

He understood why Yuri was getting so uptight about the thing. There wasn’t much evidence except the microscopic theoretical kind, but Victor had spent the majority of his life wondering why him that the knowledge was comforting in a strange way.

“So are JJ and Isabella fans of history or something?” Victor asked Yuri when he returned- predictably- with Victor’s coffee in tow.

He thrust it at Victor before wrinkling his nose and shrugging, “I don’t think so. Like I said, their rich and rich people do weird things.”

“Ah. Yuri. If you want to go you just have to ask,” Victor teased and Yuri growled before stomping off once more.

He’d just finished dinner when Yuuri walked in, blinking at Victor sitting on the couch before Yuri in the kitchen. He frowned as the door shut behind him, and Yuri seemed to have read is mind when he peeked to see who it was.

“Victor in a kitchen is a nightmare,” he snarled and Yuuri chuckled warmly at Victor’s childish pout.

Even still the warm feeling Victor feels whenever he’s truly happy crept through his chest as he watched Yuuri move to help Yuri despite the kid’s protests. It was nice knowing Yuri had someone he could actually depend on, and it only solidified his need to find a lowkey job where he could easily hide a second life.

 _You expect too much Vitya_ , he could hear Yakov chide in his head.

Looking at Yuuri’s grinning face as he held his hands up in surrender, and Yuri angrily glowering at him as the older man evidently did something wrong reminded Victor why he needed to try.

His phone chimed and he glanced at it confusedly. It wasn’t the alarm but a message from an unknown number.

| _We need to talk._

{…}

The next day the ice rink was as full as it had been the day prior. Proud mothers were gushing to each other, chattering like birds- words that didn’t hold much meaning to Victor. He suspected none of them were even listening to the other, all just trying to prove why their kid was better than any of the other children.

Victor stood apart from them as he watched the people on the ice move. He could see Yuuri’s face set in an expression equal parts stern and gentle. When he saw Victor his face softened into a smile which Victor gladly retaliated into a broad smile and wave of his arms.

“Class is dismissed,” he announced to the children before moving to where Victor was standing, “Remember practice makes perfect.”

The children gladly started towards the exit- their movements still childish and sloppy and many of them fell before making it to land. Yuuri made his way over to him, cheeks and nose red from exertion and shy smile playing along his features.

“What’re you doing here?” he asked Victor rather adorably and Victor shrugged as he drummed his fingers along the barrier thoughtfully.

“I thought I’d take you up on yesterday’s offer,” Victor explained with cautious ease, “and I thought here would be as good a place as any. I was taking Yuri to the Moon Crystal’s Gala at the end of this week and was wondering if you’d like to join as well.”

Yuuri froze, blinked in surprise before he frowned.

“Today is Thursday, Victor,” he stated and Victor nodded even as he looped his skates on before he remembered he wasn’t supposed to know how and asked Yuuri to tie his shoes for him with an embarrassed flushed.

“And the gala is Saturday,” Victor agreed, “You can say no, of course. I just figured it would be nice- the three of us doing something together.”

“I agree Victor,” Yuuri replied as he finished tying Victor’s laces and offered his hand to guide Victor on the ice, “and I’d love to go. I’m sorry. I’ve just never been asked something like that before.”

“Well,” Victor hummed as he clung onto Yuuri’s sleeves as he slipped around on the ice, “I think it’ll be a fun bonding experience.”

Yuuri’s ears turned pink at the words.

{…}

Victor found a job at a small coffee shop stuck in the middle of Yuri’s school, their apartment, and the ice rink. They offered him almost on the spot- having just recently lost a bunch of baristas mysteriously. Victor had smiled and thanked them, but it left an uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

“I wouldn’t think too much of it,” one of the other employees- Leo- brushed away with a simple wave of his hand, “People come and go all the time.”

Victor squinted at him and realized he was rather attractive. He had dark skin and brown hair and a strange twinge whenever he spoke.

“May I inquire of your accent?” Victor inquired as he watched Leo stack cups.

“Mexican-American,” Leo answered with another smile, “St. Petersburg has attracted a lot of outsiders recently and, well, we can’t all be rich. Some of us need to work for a living after all,” he chuckled before another man, paler with darker hair, stepped from the back and Leo grinned at him as he called, “Seung-gil! Come meet our newest employee- Victor Nikiforov.”

Victor smiled politely but Seung-gil frowned, dark eyes staring back at him. At his side Leo frowned at him before flickering an apologetic expression to Victor.

“Are you from around here?” Victor asked not wanting to be hated on the first day.

Seung-gil snorted before answering abruptly, “No.”

“He’s from South Korea,” Leo explained as he continued staring at him, “He doesn’t talk much but the girls don’t seem to mind.”

“So what brings you all the way to Russia?” Victor inquired as he glanced between the two of them, “Anything special?”

Seung-gil continued to stare like he couldn’t decide what to make of him. Victor met his serious face but Leo spoke up suddenly and he found his attention drawn back to the American.

“Nothing we’d ever be able to afford,” Leo chuckled and something inside of Victor’s brain seemed to click.

“The Moon Crystal Exposition,” Victor noted and Leo’s eyes grew droopy as he shook his head once more.

“We’d never get on the guest list,” Leo denied with a shake of his head and Seung-gil seemed to be staring at Victor with a slightly increased amount of frustration.

Victor tipped his head to the side confusedly as he corrected, “So the gala, then? It’s a lot less selective and St. Petersburg has seen a lot of gala’s pass through.”

“Have you ever been to one?” Leo inquired as he seemed to realize Victor knew what he was speaking of because he was a local and not a Russian tourist.

Victor shrugged- unsure if he could say he’s been to one every year. This one just seemed to draw a lot more attention- especially from different countries. He figured that made sense, though, considering users could be found just about anywhere.

“You talk too much on the first day,” Seung-gil finally snarled before spinning and stomping away in a way that reminded Victor a lot like Yuri.

Leo gave him another apologetic look as he reasoned, “He grows on you after a while. We actually traveled here together, having met as old skating rivals.”

Victor’s eyebrows rose at the admission and he dipped his head and noted, “I’ve met a lot of skaters recently. One would think a skating competition had come or something.”

“To St. Petersburg?” Leo asked with a smile, “Is that something that happens frequently?”

Victor shook his head.

“Well then what about you, new guy? Do you ice skate?” Leo inquired part teasing and part curious.

Victor didn’t even hesitate, “No.”

Leo frowned before sighing, “Shame. You’d be excellent at it. You’ve got a good build and your face isn’t so hard on the eyes. You’d easily be able to reshape the ice skating world as we know it.”

Victor didn’t want to reshape anything. He just wanted a normal boring life in a boring normal town and not have to constantly lie or run off and leave a teenager home alone because people needed him.

So Victor just shrugged and said, “I’ve taken a couple of lessons. I can’t seem to stay on my feet.”

From the other room he could hear Seung-gil chuckle darkly. Leo looked a lot more sympathetic but it was easy to see him fighting off a smile. Victor grinned at him to show that it was alright to smile at that before the door opened and Leo gestured at him to get to work.


	7. TGIF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody, it seems, is preparing for the gala.

“This calls for a celebration!” Chris exclaimed as jubilant as ever and Victor gave a slight smirk as Seung-gil furrowed his brow and growled lowly, “Victor Nikiforov at a job! Never thought the day would come!”

“Are you going to order something or stand there and gush like a school girl?” Victor challenged with a raised eyebrow though he did enjoy the attention.

“ _Victor!_ ” Leo chided as he bounded from seemingly nowhere- a gift Victor was quick to learn he held- as he practically beamed at Chris, “Always smile at the customers- especially ones that are so _very happy_ to see you.”

Victor smiled at the man dangling from his neck. Chris smiled back though it looked slightly strained. Seung-gil handed Chris his coffee.

“When do you get off work?” Chris asked Victor once Victor shook the others off, “I’ve been dying for a new suit and shopping by one’s self is so very lonesome.”

“And we wouldn’t want you to be _lonely_ ,” Victor teased good-naturedly.

Chris made a face before declaring boldly, “As soon as you get off work I’m taking you and your roommates shopping. I’ll meet you at your apartment.”

“Chris,” Victor started to protest though he was smiling.

“I’ll catch you later,” Chris interrupted before bouncing out of the coffee shop and Victor groaned in the back of his throat.

{…}

“JJ, you’re annoying _me_ , and I’m actually going to this gala,” Isabella suddenly snapped during lunch after they sat at the table Yuri was eating at and he was subjected to JJ’s idle prattle once more.

Unfortunately for him that meant nonstop conversation about tomorrow’s gala. Yuri never responded back, keeping to himself that Victor was dragging him along as well. He was hoping JJ would eventually get the message that he didn’t want to talk to him, but JJ was denser than he gave him credit for.

“Oh come off it _Isa_ ,” JJ protested with a wave of his hand, “I’m just excited is all. If you want Yuri I could probably pull a couple of strings and you can tag along as well.”

He was smiling like he meant it- like he was convinced he was doing Yuri a favor. Isabella was back to staring at him cryptically, as if trying to decipher his thoughts while he did his. Yuri turned back to JJ before she got the chance and frowned.

“You don’t seem to know Russia as well as you like to pretend,” he growled and JJ frowned as if he couldn’t figure what he did wrong.

“A simple no would’ve worked,” Isabella snapped instantly- always ready to jump at the people who hurt her boyfriend’s feelings throats.

Yuri snorted and turned away. He did owe them anything and was perfectly happy in his own company but they keep trying to wedge themselves inside. It was annoying and the only reason he hadn’t completely snapped yet was because Victor was under the impression they were friends.

_And you wouldn’t want to disappoint Victor, would you?_

“It’s alright Isa,” JJ reassured once it was clear Yuri wouldn’t, “I think we’re bothering the little lady. Come along.”

Yuri’s spine tensed at his words. JJ and Isabella were already leaving, and neither one were looking at him. It was almost like they were frightened by what they would see- like they knew how much the words would hurt- and JJ’s always seemed careless with his words but never _cruel_.

He didn’t get a chance to say anything back. Instead he gnawed at his bottom lip until it hurt before tossing his entire lunch in the trashcan and stomping to class. People avoided him in the halls, apparently frightened by him until-

“Oh the little kitty has claws,” someone shouted and he turned to glare only to find a hall of jeering faces.

“Some anger management issues as well!” someone else called, “I don’t think we’ve ever seen him smile. Does he even know how to smile, I wonder?”

 _Idiots_ , Yuri’s brain snapped at him and he had to force himself to start towards the classroom.

“Who cares? I want to see him cry,” someone else claimed and a hand caught the back of his shirt and he was jerked backwards.

He cried out, limbs flailing as he tried twisting his body around to the person attacking him. He didn’t get very far. Fingers caught his wrist and twisted and a cry of shock and pain escaped his mouth as his entire arm was wrenched unnaturally behind his back.

“Tough one tis one!” someone claimed as the blurry edges of their face was stuck into his and Yuri reared back and head-butted the jerk in his nose.

There was a cry of pain as the face stumbled away. The pressure on his arm increased, and Yuri practically chomped his bottom lip in half to keep from crying out. He couldn’t give them the satisfaction. They were all bored mindless jerks anyways.

“I bet he gets punished quite a bit,” someone else exclaimed as the person Yuri struck kept screaming about broken noses, “Bet he likes it. Bet him and his little owner get satisfaction from this.”

Hands were at his shoulders as he was forced backwards. His arm was released and he stumbled backwards, falling onto the bathroom floor. It smelt about as nice as it looked and he landed on his wrist wrong and now it hurt but none of that mattered because they just insulted Victor.

“I bet he ties him up to the bedpost to keep him from running away. Starves him so he doesn’t get fatter than him,” someone was saying and Yuri was on his feet, swinging his bag before his brain could process what he was doing.

The swing was good and managed to hit two people but there was a swarm after them and he had to dance backwards to evade their hands- not for the first time he wished Mila went to this school. She’d never let anyone insult Victor- not even in their thoughts.

“What’re you going to do you stupid little boy?” one of the people Yuri struck demanded as he messaged his jaw, “Think you’re so smart? Think you’re one of us? Think you’re better because you’re raised by someone who looks like Victor?”

“Don’t say his name,” Yuri panted angrily, “You don’t get to say his name.”

The bell rang, signaling they were all late for class. Nobody but Yuri seemed to notice, eyes glistening with anger. He tightened his fist around his bag as he resolved going down fighting.

“Don’t mess up his face,” the person who kept insulting Victor finally declared, “It’s such a nice face.”

The swarm broke loose and Yuri only got in a couple of hits before they had his arms twisted behind him once more and kicked his legs out from underneath him. He squirmed as cursed but was mostly ignored as they drug him to the toilet.

“You know I’ve always heard cat’s hate water,” the voice holding him declared, “I’ve always wanted to test it.”

“No!” Yuri squeaked before a hand fisted his hair and plunged it into the toilet.

When he was jerked back out the voice found his ear and hissed, “Think you’re so all and mighty because the newbies declared you off-limits, huh?”

His head was forced back down where it was held for a slightly longer than before. When he was jerked back up, he was gasping.

“Think they actually care for you? Think they owe you something? Huh? Is that it?”

Push. Plunge. Hold. Release.

“Think you’re better than us?”

Push. Plunge. Hold. Release.

“Do you?”

Push. Plunge. Hold. Release.

It didn’t take a genius to figure out Yuri was being attacked because JJ and Isabella managed to upset these people somehow. Unfortunately only someone with a death wish would outright attack either one of them so they waited until Yuri pushed them away- like he was wont to do- and then ambush him in the hallway.

“You’re nothing but a bunch of spineless cowards,” Yuri panted before anybody got a chance to speak and his head was forced back in the bowl so hard he heard it crack.

“Ah man. His eye his bleeding!” someone cried when they lifted him out once more and the momentary pause was all he needed.

The back of his head collided with the person’s behind him even as he spun his body in a low kick. His leg caught someone and their body collided against the stall door. In the same moment he leapt to his feet, grabbing his bag and cracking it against the skull of the first person who lunged at him.

He didn’t think about what he did next. All he knew was that he was suddenly out in the hallway, the leader’s hand held in his firm grasp. Yuri was panting and glaring and he was all too aware with how awful he must’ve looked.

Blood dripping down half his face with his uniform untucked and dripping. He ignored it because the person beneath him was suddenly blubbering nonsense.

“You don’t touch JJ or Isabella,” Yuri finally declared lowly, “and you don’t ever think the name Victor Nikiforov ever again. Am I clear?”

“I’ll get you back for this,” the idiot declared instead, “I’ll kill you.”

Last time Yuri had snapped someone’s wrist when they had insulted Victor. This time he smashed their nose with the bottom of his shoe before stomping off- unaware by how he appeared until he swung open the door to his class.

The entire room froze, eyes bulging from people’s skulls as they took him in. The teacher turned to reprimand before gasping and demanding what had happened.

“It was nothing,” Yuri growled not wanting to talk as he moved up to his seat, not before he added smugly though, “You should see the other guys.”

{…}

Victor didn’t show up for lessons that afternoon though he did send Yuuri a text explaining how he had work and couldn’t get off and how Leo was a slave driver followed by a bunch of cute emojis. Yuuri smiled down at his phone fondly.

“You shouldn’t lose focus so quickly,” a feminine voice suddenly snapped and his head went up and he glowered at the dark haired woman staring back at him.

“Who’s losing focus?” Yuuri demanded as he tossed his phone back down into his bag before growling, “Where is he Sara?”

She just shrugged, batting dark eyes back at him. She was beautiful- a fact she took full advantage of with the skirt and blouse she was currently wearing. To Yuuri she looked like trouble, but he supposed he was one of the few who knew why.

“You seriously expect me to believe he let his favorite pet off its leash?” Yuuri asked, leaning against the barrier and staring back at her, “What? Is he getting senile in his old age?”

“Senile enough to send me to kill you,” Sara declared sweetly and Yuuri scoffed.

“You’re not here to kill me Sara,” he brushed off, “I don’t think you’re here to kill anyone so what then? You’ve been degraded to messenger pigeon?”

Her smile thinned itself into a flat line as she warned in a low tone, “It is unwise to upset Katsuki. You of all people should-”

“Should what?” Yuuri snapped before turning and asked, “How’s Michele doing? You two still close or have you distanced yourself a bit too far?”

She glared, though Yuuri wasn’t surprised. Her twin brother was always her sore spot and- he supposed- the only reason she allowed herself to become who she was before him. Her _weakness_.

“I don’t know Yuuri. How’s your mother?” she demanded back and Yuuri’s stomach clenched at the mention of his mom.

“The only thing this debacle proves is that we’ve worked with each other one too many times,” Yuuri declared taking care to keep his features calm and unreadable, “What’s the real reason you decided to greet me at my job?”

Violet eyes fluttered around the ice rink and Yuuri remembered being told once that Sara and Michele used to ice skate when they were children. It was one of those things they did to make themselves closer, and the story was so sweet it soured Yuuri’s stomach at it being tainted by Celestino.

“It’s fitting,” Sara hummed thoughtfully, “He found you on the ice, no?”

“I’m growing bored Sara. Threaten me and get out. I have a gala to prepare for,” Yuuri finally snapped growing tired of the constant swing around the conversation.

Her eyes sparkled as she declared proudly, “So you do have invitations to the gala! Wonderful!”

Yuuri snorted before asking with mock offense, “After all these years and he still doesn’t trust me?”

“He doesn’t trust anyone,” Sara concluded for him as she fixed him with one last hard stare, “Especially not with you out recruiting people.”

Yuuri hummed once before shrugging.

“Tell Celestino I won’t fail him,” Yuuri informed her coldly, “and that if he really wanted to be helpful he’d find a way to get this reporters off my back. I’m the _villain_ here, it seems.”

“Noted,” Sara replied as she drummed her fingers against her leg idly, “though he’s already got a plan in motion for that.”

{…}

JJ and Isabella continued to stare at him like it was the first time they’ve seen him. He did his best to ignore them, though they proved that to be close to impossible.

“Just tell me why those idiots did it,” JJ half begged and half whined as Yuri turned his head once more.

“Stop moving so much,” Isabella chided him, finger moving under his chin once more and tipping his head back to the side.

She was dabbing at the blood on his head. The teacher hadn’t been amused by Yuri’s attitude about the whole thing and had immediately sentenced him to yet another afternoon in the nurse’s office. He’d obeyed and was grateful that JJ managed to convince the nurse to not call Victor.

“He’s just got a job,” Yuri had protested feebly, “Lived with the idiot for five years and _now_ he got a job. I can’t screw that up for him.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. We’ll look out for him,” JJ had reassured and with one last reluctant stare the nurse backed off.

That had seemed as close an apology as Yuri was going to get from either of them so he set himself to ignore them. JJ proceeded to pace, growling lowly to himself. Occasionally he’d turn back to Yuri and demand names or faces or something. Yuri denied him every time.

“You really should go home,” Isabella said moving her hand away, “Your clothes are filthy and you smell like a bathroom stall.”

Yuri huffed once more, turning his nose back up in the air. He resigned his face into a pouty glare as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Being bullied is nothing new,” Yuri informed them without meeting their eyes, “I can handle myself.”

JJ was at his side immediately, shoving his face in Yuri’s. He was frowning, dark eyes glowing. It was a strange sight, seeing JJ angry.

“You don’t have to do this alone Yuri,” he protested all needy and wanting and Yuri’s eyes softened the tiniest bit.

“Its fine,” he brushed off before scowling and snapping, “I don’t need you or her. I’m _fine_.”

Isabella snorted and JJ smirked. Yuri suspected they understood, which upset him more than it should have. More than he knew it should have. Fortunately, the nurse walked back in wearing a perplexed frown.

“Am I free to go now?” Yuri snapped, shuffling on top of the cot and trying his best not to glower at her too much.

She blinked at him before straightening her spine and announced, “That’s actually why I’m here. You three are free to go.”

Yuri was on his feet before she got a chance to finish. Her glare stilled his movements, but he remained standing.

“I have an extra uniform for you Mr. Plisetsky, and then you’re to go off to class immediately,” the nurse commanded as she set a folded uniform on the table.

JJ and Isabella lingered as Yuri went to pick the clothes up but were soon to scamper off when he leveled them with a glare and snapped, “Do you want to see me naked?”

JJ looked like he was going to protest but Isabella gave him a soft look as she took JJ by his arm and lead him away. Yuri watched them go before unbuttoning his shirt and stripping off his pants. The nurse hadn’t left the room but she didn’t pay much attention to him as he swapped clothes.

“You’ll be fine,” she reassured even though Yuri hadn’t asked, “It won’t even scar.”

Yuri reached out to pull his bangs over the spot the toilet broke the skin. It still stung, the skin raw and painful.

“Thanks,” Yuri said remembering his manners before he hurried to his last class.

The teacher had given him a strange look when he walked in but didn’t say anything else. He took his seat without saying anything and didn’t pay much attention to anything the teacher said. Occasionally he’d scribble something in his notebook so he wouldn’t be completely hopeless later.

JJ was outside by the door when class was dismissed and Yuri gave him a sour look before glancing around and asked, “Where’s your shadow?”

“Isabella is _not_ my shadow,” JJ informed him almost coldly but then his voice warmed once more as he explained, “I’m going to walk you home today.”

He offered Yuri his arm, but Yuri just looked at it before starting down the hall. JJ followed, chattering nonstop. Yuri ignored him, wishing he’d stop talking so much. It was sweet released when he finally saw his apartment and turned to tell JJ to scram.

“I don’t mind walking you up,” JJ was already saying and Yuri glared.

“Absolutely not Leroy,” Yuri snapped before disappearing in the building where he almost immediately collided with Mila.

“ _Yuri!_ ” she exclaimed happily before frowning worriedly, “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he grumbled shouldering past her and disappearing up the stairs. He just needed to be alone with his thoughts.

Unfortunately for him, Yuuri had sprawled himself out in the living room. His feet were tucked under him as he flipped lazily through the TV stations. He smiled at him upon entering. Yuri didn’t returned the gesture.

“How was school?” Yuuri inquired, so sweet.

Yuri still remembered the way he stared at him the day before. He still remembered the shadows brimming with untold secrets and dangers Yuri wanted far away from Victor. Yuuri was trouble, and he was dangerous, and Victor is an _idiot_.

“School was the same it always is,” Yuri replied dryly, moving towards the kitchen to fix him something to drink.

“That bad huh?” Yuuri asked teasingly, and he looked so unbelievably _harmless_.

Yuri gave him a sharp glare, and something in Yuuri’s face changed. His eyes stopped smiling. They grew hard with pity. Yuri turned away once more, reaching up to cover the mark on his face.

“Want to elaborate?” Yuuri asked rising from the couch and closing the distance between them, “Are people giving you trouble?”

“No,” Yuri replied- too quick and he figured Yuuri saw it too as his frown deepened, “Its fine. I can handle myself.”

“Yuri,” Yuuri warned and when Yuri spun to tell him off he was right there and he was so close and pressing Yuri instinctively shoved him away.

Yuuri stumbled, caught off guard. Frustrated, Yuri spun away. Yuuri followed him, looking worried and it was so _Victor_ it made Yuri angry again.

“What is your problem?” Yuri snapped as he turned to glare at him.

“My problem is that you’re being attacked at your school,” Yuuri explained and his voice was frustratingly calm, “I thought it was supposed to be safe.”

“Every school has jerks. Why does it matter?” Yuri demanded, voice rising in his aggravation, “Nobody asked you to care for me.”

Yuuri opened his mouth before shutting it. He looked confused, and he looked pained. The shadows were back in his eyes, though, and Yuri found he didn’t want to trust that look. He didn’t want to trust him. Not with anything- especially not with Victor.

When he spoke his voice was the perfect mix between concerned and parental, “Of course I care about you Yuri. No one has to tell me to care for you.”

Nothing about him changed, Yuri realized. He was still the awkward oaf that stumbled into their lives. Everything but his eyes. His eyes were hard and glittery and dangerous and Yuri’s frown deepened the longer he stared at them.

He was an excellent liar. Too good of a liar and it made Yuri want to punch him in the face. Victor would never understand and he probably wouldn’t ever forgive him so he just resigned himself to glaring.

Yuuri reached out to brush his hair from his forehead. Yuri swatted him away, something about his touch was off-putting. It seemed almost unnatural, except that was impossible. Yuri just didn’t like the guy because he was jealous. He knew that, rationally he did, but instinctively he felt that Yuuri was dangerous.

Someone knocked at the door.

Yuuri stared at him a moment longer before turning to answer it. Yuri leaned against the counters, watching with a critical eye so he saw the way Yuuri tensed when he opened the door.

“Who are you?” Yuuri demanded the same moment Chris saw him from over his shoulder.

“ _Yuri!_ ” he exclaimed smiling broadly, “Have you seen Victor at his new job, yet? He’s _adorable_.”

Yuri smiled despite himself but Yuuri was still blocking his path tense and angry as he demanded lowly, “Who are you?”

Chris pouted even as he introduced flamboyant and excited and everything Victor fell for years before Yuri was in either of their lives, “I’m Chris. Victor hasn’t mentioned me? Not even once?”

Yuuri frowned turning to look at Yuri. Obviously he was waiting for him to snap and tell Chris to get lost so he wouldn’t have to. Yuri wasn’t interested in anything Yuuri wanted, but Victor wasn’t home either and the last time Yuri had been alone with Chris he’d asked him to come live with him.

Yuri couldn’t leave Victor, though. Not when his grandpa had given him specific instructions to stay with the man and let him raise him until he came back. Not long after that Yuri broke a kid’s wrist, and Victor started playing nice.

So Yuri crossed his arms and demanded with a furrowed brow, “What’re you doing here Chris?”

“I’m here to take you all shopping for the gala tomorrow,” Chris explained as he bounded past Yuuri into their apartment, “My treat.”

Yuuri was glaring at his back. Chris ignored him though he undoubtedly knew about it. He always seemed to know how everyone thought of him.

“I’m Yuuri,” Yuuri announced wearing an almost bashful smile as he stuck his hand out and hid his eyes under the pretense of being shy.

He was good at being shy, Yuri observed from his spot in the kitchen, very believable. Yuri might even manage to fully convince himself of it if not for the eyes.

_No. Quit being a child Yuri. Shadows don’t linger in men’s eyes._

Unless they have something to hide. The thought did little to reassure him, and he frowned, crossing his arms, as Chris accepted Yuuri’s hand. Yuri couldn’t see his face, but he figured Chris’s smile was strained. His shoulders were tense minutely but Yuri’s spent the better part of his life watching people.

 _If you don’t watch you won’t see and then how could you differentiate between friend and foe?_ his father had told him once when he was still very young and he hadn’t understood what the words meant.

He wouldn’t for a long time, but then his parents died and he realized he’d been watching people his whole life. That didn’t make him seeing users from not any closer to possible, however. Yuuri’s eyes flickered over to him, and they looked uncomfortable.

“Victor doesn’t get off until five,” Yuuri said before bunching his nose together like he did whenever he was thinking, “It’s barely three.”

“Victor keeps buying Chris watches for his birthday but his sense of time is still several hours too early,” Yuri explained from the kitchen, “Don’t look too much into it.”

“I see you’re settling in nicely,” Chris replied to Yuuri as he moved further into the apartment before he glanced at Yuri and asked almost worriedly, “Where do you sleep now?”

“With Victor,” Yuri said before narrowing his eyes in silent warning.

Chris seemed to have gotten the hint as his eyes sparkled with understanding. His face brightened in that way it did, like he was in the middle of the most pleasurable experience of his life. A front he made up to confront especially annoying people.

“So what do you two want to do for the next two hours?” he asked taking the remote and flipping it over to some ridiculous American Hallmark movie.

Yuuri moved around the couch to where Yuri was standing in the kitchen. He looked confused- incredulous even. Yuri figured he probably didn’t know anyone quite like Chris in Japan.

“Is he always this…” Yuuri trailed off, hands fumbling in the air like he would find the perfect word there.

“Yes,” Yuri affirmed as he started a pot of milk, adding chocolate powder into the mix and stirring it; Yuuri watched him and it annoyed Yuri so he asked, “Can you get me three mugs from the cabinet? And the marshmallows?”

Yuuri moved to obey before asking head stuck in the fridge, “Are you hungry? When I was in school I remember lunch being _so_ early.”

He shut the fridge to look at him. Yuri’s face fell into a frown, not used to people joining him in the kitchen. It annoyed him more than he thought it would.

“Why? Your piggy stomach demanding food?” he snapped and he knew he was maliciously being mean and that that wasn’t fair.

Yuuri- to his credit- just frowned at him disapprovingly. Yuri couldn’t blame him, was secretly glad he didn’t treat him delicately like everyone else in his life. If only he’d stop treating him like a child.

“It was just a question,” Yuuri informed him brusquely before he pulled down the bread from the cabinet, “You shouldn’t push so hard to the people in your life. Otherwise you may wake up one day with no one.”

“I think,” Chris called from the other room and his eyes were narrowed but the smile never left his face, “you presume too much.”

Yuuri glanced back at Chris before at Yuri and shrugged as he explained almost embarrassed, “It was just a suggestion. I didn’t mean any offense.”

“Its fine,” Yuri reassured and he was still glaring at Yuuri but he was talking to Chris, “We all know Victor has a soft heart for strays.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to reply but Yuri spun to pour the hot chocolate into the mugs and handed it to Yuuri before moving in the living room to hand one to Chris. Chris was beaming at him, but he presumed it fell when he turned his back on him.

“I’ve got homework and if you’re taking us all out later I need to get started on it now,” Yuri explained even though no one asked, “I’ll be in Victor’s room. Try not to break anything Chris.”

“Ah. Your words wound me Yuri,” Chris called dramatically, Yuuri watching from the kitchen sipping at his drink.

“Do you need any help?” he asked when Yuri passed him, and Yuri focused the blunt of his glare at him.

Why was he trying so hard all the time? He already had the apartment, that didn’t mean he had to befriend everyone in it. He didn’t even have to be nice to everyone in it, as long as the person he is nice to was Victor.

“Thanks but no,” Yuri said, “I think I can handle my own homework,” his eyes flickered to the stove as he added, “Try not to burn the whole place down piggy.”

Yuuri’s smirk followed him into the bedroom along with his words, “I’m no Victor, Yuri.”

 _No_ , Yuri supposed, _you’re not._ He just didn’t know by how much yet.


	8. The Moon Crystal's Gala

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor discovers some things from Yuuri's folly.

“Yuri?”

He sounded surprised, which Yuri took pleasure in even as the wrong Yuuri turned at the name. Yuuri frowned when he didn’t recognize the couple standing behind them. JJ’s eyes were wide in shock, and Isabella looked like she always did but Yuri saw the uncertainty in her eyes.

“That’s me,” Yuri said so no one else will speak and spread their idiocy like they’re so fond of doing before dipping his head towards the man beside him and added, “and him.”

JJ’s eyes flickered between the two of them, uncertain. It was nice to see that sort of expression on his face but he recovered quickly.

“I’m JJ,” he introduced sticking his hand out politely, “I’m a friend of Yuri’s at school.”

Yuuri’s eyes flickered to Yuri’s forehead even as Yuri glowered and corrected, “Acquaintance. He’s just an acquaintance.”

Yuuri nodded, like he understood. Yuri didn’t think he did because he knew it was a bit more complicated than that.

“Yeah well. I think we have that in common,” Yuuri admitted with a dip of his head but he didn’t accept JJ’s hand, “I’m his roommate. The one that isn’t Victor.”

JJ’s hand closed to a fist as he lowered it back to his side and replied a little more subdued, “Obviously.”

“Speak of the devil,” Isabella spoke up and Yuri turned in time to see Victor take both his and Yuuri’s arms in his own.

His mouth was smiling, but his eyes weren’t. They were looking at JJ, who seemed incapable of reading people’s expressions. His smile brightened upon seeing Victor, like they were old friends. Yuri had to resist reaching out and shaking some sense into him.

“JJ,” Victor greeted, voice as cold as his eyes, “It’s certainly a surprise to see you here.”

JJ’s eyes flickered over to where Yuri was standing uncomfortably and they lingered. Victor’s arm tightened around his, and he’s known the man to be protective but this was ridiculous. JJ was just a well-meaning idiot.

“It’s one of the reasons of the move,” JJ admitted, eyes barring into Yuri’s like he sought his strength from there, “and I must admit I’m more surprised at seeing you here.”

“These gala events aren’t as impressive as you may like to think,” Yuri replied jerking at Victor’s arm.

Victor resisted slightly but gave in easy enough. Yuuri followed Victor like Yuri knew he would because they’re predictable fools. Chris was waiting with a glass of something pale and bubbly and Yuri suspected it burned when it went down but Victor downed it in one gulp after Chris offered it.

“Thirsty Vitya?” Chris asked sweetly, taking Yuri’s spot on his arm as he suggested, “Let’s go find you something to drink.”

He drug Victor into the crowd of people, leaving him with Yuuri. Yuuri was frowning, lips puckering as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You shouldn’t pout,” Yuri chided him grabbing a glass off a passing platter and thrusting it at him, “Here. Drink.”

Yuuri obeyed without much complaint and like Victor it only took one gulp. His face screwed up, so Yuri suspected it didn’t agree completely going down. Yuuri must’ve not minded as he took another glass, and he took it in two sips.

“Careful. I don’t suspect they’re serving cider here,” Yuri cautioned before he moved away.

He should’ve stayed. He should’ve counted.

{…}

“I really should be getting back to Yuuri,” Victor said for what’s felt like the millionth time yet Chris’s arm never left his.

“Which one?” Chris inquired as he drug him to another group of people and introducing the both of them.

Victor forced himself to smile as he accepted the hands and proffered polite conversation as he sipped at his drink delicately. Chris did the majority of the talking before he’d move them to another group of people, and it started over once more.

“Does it matter?” Victor challenged as he turned to stare at his friend before smiling at the woman who offered her hand before moving on, “I asked Yuuri on a date here. I think it’s a bit unbecoming to abandon him within the first couple of minutes.”

“No one is abandoning anyone,” Chris reassured poking him on the nose lightly, “Just like I’m not going to let you linger like a bad aftertaste. Smile and greet these guests. Get your name out there. Make some friends.”

Victor rolled his eyes back to his friend only to find him serious. It made him frown before he had to smile once more as he introduced himself to an older man.

“You know I’m always up to being _friendly_ ,” Victor reassured, “I just feel like that should be with my date and not my best friend.”

Chris gave him a sideways look before he led him to the hors d’oeuvre table. Men and women were coming and going, picking up stuffed mushrooms or the triangle sandwiches stuck with various cheeses and meats. In the center was a bowl of red punch, a sparkling replica of the Moon Crystal.

Victor followed obediently. He would occasionally turn to catch a glimpse of Yuuri. He looked for Yuri as well- along with JJ and Isabella- but never glimpsed any of them. They weren’t lurking in any corners like Yuuri, sucking down champagne like it was water. Whenever Chris finally released him he vowed to go provide the younger man with a distraction.

Chris never did. Not even when they reached the table and he stuck a cracker smeared with lobster salad in Victor’s mouth.

“I know you Victor,” Chris chided as Victor chewed in surprise, “and I know that you’re not as deep as you like to think. Yuuri is your roommate and not a fling whose heart you can break when you’re bored, and you will get bored. It’s how you are.”

Victor glared, opened his mouth to argue. Chris stuffed a puff pastry in it.

“Shush and listen,” Chris commanded and it was rare to see him so serious about something, “I know I told you to go have fun with some random person. To get back out there in the love department, but it shouldn’t be your roommate. Don’t do that to either of you. Or little Yuri.”

“I find your lack of faith-” Victor started but was interrupted by Chris shoving fried meat into his mouth.

“Nuh uh. What’d I say about speaking,” Chris berated as he bopped his nose casually and beamed sweetly as he continued, “None of you deserve the fallout that’ll become of this. Believe me on this baby. I’ve dealt with enough rotten flings.”

“Except I’m not you,” Victor denied as he urged Victor away from the table, “and I’m not hungry and would appreciate you stop stuffing things in my mouth. If you’re not careful I may get the wrong idea.”

Chris hummed, tightening his hold on Victor’s arm theatrically.

“You know I’ve been trying to seduce you in my bed for years now,” Chris whispered huskily in his ear so only Victor could hear the words before he moved away and added, “Now where were we?”

“I was just leaving to go be with Yuuri,” Victor tried and Chris tightened his hold, refusing to release him just yet.

“I mean it Vitya,” Chris warned, and his eyes were sparkling.

“I got it Chris,” Victor added before detaching himself, turning to seek out Yuuri.

He found JJ first or rather JJ found him.

He was missing the girl from his shoulder, and he appeared sober. He was also smiling, which irked Victor for reasons he couldn’t explain. He was the cause- however indirectly- of every Yuri injury has received the last couple of days. That was enough for him.

“ _Victor._ I’ve been dying for a second chat,” JJ explained sticking out his hand, “It was unfortunate- the conditions on which we had the last one.”

“Yes,” Victor agreed curtly, “ _Unfortunate._ ”

JJ frowned, dropping his hand when it was denied the second time that night. Victor wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that.

Even so JJ continued undeterred, “I wanted to speak to you about Yuri. I’m afraid he’s having a hard time at school.”

“Of which occurrence tipped you off?” Victor demanded with an icy glare, his fingertips tingling with the familiar icy itch.

JJ puckered his face at him but continued anyways, “Ever since his panic attack kids have- kids are mean and the slightest bit of weakness tips them in the wrong direction.”

Victor forced himself to relax. JJ sounded genuinely concerned, and his eyes were bleeding at the thought of people hurting Yuri.

“Yuri makes friends hard. He’s been having a hard time making friends since he moved here five years ago,” Victor explained, “Don’t take it personally.”

“I just want him to be alright,” JJ confessed, “Isa does as well even though she’d never admit it.”

Victor rose an eyebrow in shock as he inquired politely, “Isa?”

“Isabella,” JJ clarified and the tension dropped to incredulously for a moment before it was back and he asked, “Do you think he’ll be okay? He had a run in with bullies yesterday. He beat the crap out of them but it could’ve ended differently.”

Even though Yuri already confessed to the attack the night before- when they were laying in the bedroom together and Victor asked about his forehead- it didn’t make it easier to hear. The thought of anyone wanting to hurt Yuri hurt Victor- struck his heart like a poisoned thorn and bled him from the inside. He also knew Yuri put on a front and had everyone fooled.

JJ was the one of the only people to ever express this amount of concern for the youth. It was nice even though Victor wasn’t willing to forgive him about the window incident.

“If I know one thing living with him, it’s that Yuri’s a strong kid,” Victor reassured, and JJ opened his mouth to say more- Victor was tempted to stuffing something in it like Chris would have.

He didn’t have to. The next moment the girl- _Isabella?_ \- bounded over to latch onto JJ’s arm. Her eyes were glossy and her cheeks were tinged with a red blush. Victor has lived in Russia long enough to know she’s been taking advantage of the free drinks.

“ _JJ!_ I’m so glad I found you! Come _here!_ ” her voice was pitched in a whine as she jerked on his arm; to his credit JJ didn’t jerk her away nor allowed her to drag him along.

“Isa?” JJ asked gently as his eyes flickered towards the direction she was jerking him towards, “What is it? What’s happening?”

“Yuuri drank too much!” she exclaimed before giggling and added, “He’s pole dancing! _Naked!_ ”

For a moment Victor misunderstood, imaging his skinny fifteen-year-old kid stripped to his underwear and projecting himself to everyone around. _Strangers_ , people Victor could say with confidence wouldn’t look upon the display with eager eyes and less than innocent intentions.

Then he saw and realization dawned on him. It wasn’t pale hair and pale skin he saw but dark raven hair and cheeks flushed red with alcohol. His eyes were glassy and sweat was sparkling amongst his lean muscles as he held up a champagne bottle upside down as he spun around a pole.

Victor felt his stomach jerk- not with the same protective fury he had felt when he thought it was the other Yuri. It was a heat that crawled down to his groin, and the thought that other people were thinking the same was what got him moving.

“Yuuri!” he called, shoving several people aside who he decided had been staring too long as he made his way to where Yuuri was dancing flexibly.

Victor didn’t know people’s bodies could _move_ that way anymore.

Lucky for him Yuuri saw him and his face brightened into a broad grin. He dropped to his feet the same time Victor made it to the front and neither had a chance to think before Yuuri was drawing him into a tight hug.

“ _Victor!_ ” Yuuri exclaimed happily and the eyes that weren’t already looking were now, “I’m so happy to see you Victor! You’re so beautiful in everything you do,” he frowned, tipping his head back so their eyes met and he asked, “Are you my date Victor? You invited me so that should make you my date.”

He burrowed his face into Victor’s stomach, missing the blush creeping onto Victor’s skin. He blamed the misunderstanding- his body prepared to leap at Yuri’s honor. He hadn’t been ready to be the one who needed Yuuri’s honor protected from.

“Yuuri. Of course you’re my date Yuuri,” Victor reassured as Yuuri’s grin seemed to brighten as he squeezed tighter.

“ _Yeah!_ ” the man exclaimed before babbling, “I’m lucky. So, so lucky.”

“ _Yuuri!_ ” a new voice exclaimed and a man with dark skin and round cheeks was at their side, and he didn’t even glance at Victor as his hand settled on Yuuri and his voice was feather soft, “How many did you have? Never mind. Don’t answer that. Come on, let’s get you somewhere a little more private.”

And as the stranger Yuuri happily burped as being Phichit drug him away Victor realized the warmth spreading to all the parts of his body was love.

{…}

Yuuri woke with a headache.

He groaned, rolling over on his head. His stomach rolled, and his throat tasted of bile but nothing came up. He figured his stomach was pretty much empty, though he couldn’t recall how much he ate last night if anything at all. He couldn’t remember much of anything.

“You look like crap,” a voice observed, and Yuuri’s heart lurched as he spun to see pale blue-green eyes staring back at him.

His heart settled but his stomach didn’t. Nor the persistent drummer banging around in his skull. He flopped back down on the bed, burying his face into his pillow. It smelt like alcohol.

A thought occurred to him suddenly and he jerked upright as he focused back on the teen staring at him as he demanded, “What’d I do?”

“Besides get drunk off your ass last night?” Yuri inquired and his eyes were sparkling before they moved to Yuuri’s nightstand and he shrugged.

Yuuri could see the battle raging on the teen’s face, and he figured he must’ve looked like an idiot if the kid was struggling to not laugh at him. He was the only one in the room, though, and when Yuuri managed to croak out a complete to a sore throat Yuri offered him a water bottle.

“You’re hungover, but you’ll be fine in a couple of hours,” Yuri reassured him and his voice was stuck between gentle and amused.

Yuuri felt a tinge of gratefulness, but it was overshadowed by nausea, embarrassment and the thought of what he could’ve done burning a hole in the back of his mind. Yuri’s mirth about the whole situation wasn’t helping much.

“What’d I do?” he demanded harsher than he intended to, dark eyes glaring up at the youth by his side.

“Besides drink one too many glasses of bubbly?” Yuri teased, and his eyes were shining with suppressed laughter.

“You’re not exactly making me feel any better,” Yuuri informed him, and Yuri shrugged as he turned away- that was the kid Yuuri knew.

Almost subconsciously Yuuri’s eyes sought out Victor, who wasn’t there. Yuri seemed to pick up on it as he shoved Yuuri back onto the bed.

“Victor’s not here,” Yuri informed him rougher than before but then he looked away and added, “He went to the store. Some super-secret hangover cure he’s always wanted to try.”

Yuuri found himself barking a laugh at that and was surprised by how easy it came. Yuri gave him an incredulous look- like he couldn’t believe he was laughing at him. It only made Yuuri’s heart flutter with laughter despite the headache and budding nausea and the thought of getting blackout drunk.

He’s seen his father make a fool of himself enough times to know that the Katsuki men getting drunk was a bad idea all the way around.

“You’re trying to tell me that Chris has never had a hangover before?” he demanded and Yuri puckered his lips in mock thought before shaking his head.

“No,” Yuri informed him voice still pitched with thought before he added, “He has an impossible tolerance when it comes to drinking. Victor too, when he’s not an emotional wreck. So of course that means all the time.”

Yuuri rubbed at his eyes before he replied, “Victor isn’t an emotional wreck, and what are you doing here? I thought you don’t like me.”

Yuri shrugged, propping himself on the foot of Yuuri’s bed before pulling his feet underneath him. He was staring at him oddly. It wasn’t hostile, like when Yuuri first arrived, and it wasn’t that gentle gaze he gave Victor whenever his mouth wasn’t open.

“When I first arrived in St. Petersburg Victor made it very clear what he thought of me,” Yuri informed him suddenly.

Yuuri gazed at him unsure of what he was trying to say but he’s seen the way Victor’s looked at him so he tried, “That you’re practically his child, and that he _adores_ you.”

 _Attitude and all_ , he may have said except it knew it wouldn’t have been fair. Being mean to Yuri wouldn’t solve anything, even if the kid probably wouldn’t notice. Not when he’s barely been alive and still had to go through twice as much as a normal person.

Yuuri’s problems weren’t Yuri’s fault.

“It hadn’t always been like that,” Yuri informed him and his eyes were lost in the past as he explained, “When I first got here Victor made it clear that the last thing he wanted was some little kid trailing his every move. I was ten and didn’t mind much. Any home was better than no home, and I know I wasn’t much better.”

The words left an ashen taste in his mouth as he demanded, “Victor didn’t _want_ you?”

Yuri shrugged again as he answered, “He didn’t have much of a choice. Neither of us did. One moment my grandpa was there, handing me off to some silver haired stranger and the next he was gone. He promised he’d be back- that he’d return for me- but he never did.”

Yuuri shook his head but immediately realized that was a mistake as it spurred his headache on. He grunted and flinched as Yuri stared at him. Yuuri couldn’t read his eyes- found it difficult to see anything but waves of anger rolling off the kid.

“Neither me nor Victor wanted the other around much,” Yuri clarified.

Yuuri tried to picture it but found he couldn’t so he asked, “What happened? What changed?”

“I dunno,” Yuri admitted with another shrug, “One day I snapped a guy’s wrist because I didn’t like something he said about Victor, and the next thing I know it all changed. Victor no longer tried pushing me out of my life, and I’m sure the idiot doesn’t even realize how much easier it had been when he wasn’t pulling me around trying to make amends.”

 _That_ sounded like the Victor Yuuri met. There was just one other thing bothering him.

“Why are you telling me this?” Yuuri demanded suspiciously, narrowing his eyes and holding his breath in anticipation.

But the eyes just stared at him and they weren’t soft or gentle but neither were they hard or angry as Yuri explained, “I just wanted you to know. I don’t hate you, but I don’t trust you either. It took me awhile before I found another home and it’s Victor and I don’t want anything- or any _one_ \- to hurt him. I’d break their knees.”

Yuuri swallowed because that was a threat. He’s been in enough situations to recognize a threat, however it was concealed.

He was more curious about the foundation of the threat though. Victor didn’t care for Yuuri- not any more than a financial stable man willing to help with rent. He opened his mouth to ask, but the front door swung open and Victor called for one of them though he couldn’t be sure.

Yuri dipped his head to the side, childish frown still marring his features. He didn’t look innocent, but he didn’t look threatening either. Yuuri idly wondered if that’s what the bullies saw before Yuri put them in the infirmary.

“In here,” Yuri called when Yuuri didn’t and he was already off the bed and moving towards the door before Victor opened it with a smile so bright it agitated his hangover.

Yuuri groaned, gripping his pillow tighter. He knew he did something ridiculous and stupid when Victor treated him with a sympathetic expression as soon as Yuri disappeared behind the door.

“Was it that bad?” he asked, meek and tired silently wishing for the ground to swallow him whole.

Victor shook his head as he reassured quickly, “No. No. It was me. I shouldn’t have left you alone after I invited you.”

Yuuri hummed but didn’t reply. That wasn’t a definite answer he knew, and he made a mental note to ask Phichit about it later.

Victor changed tactics as he pulled out a bottle of Ginger Ale and offered it to him with a comforting smile. Yuuri accepted it gracefully, thinking of how smug Sara has to be right now. It did help with his nausea though, and Victor’s hand was pressing on his thigh as his thumb spun lazy circles on top of it.

“Are you still drunk Victor?” he inquired, and it came out ruder than he intended it to- he was just unaccustomed to such an intimate touch.

Victor’s hand immediately disappeared in his lap, and he looked away. Blue eyes sparkled momentarily with a longing sadness and Yuuri felt his spine tingle. No wonder Yuri was so upset with him earlier, not if he’s been pushing Victor’s kindness away.

_Idiot. Not everyone is out to get you._

_Caring is a weakness. Slit his throat_.

Yuuri pushed the thoughts away, apology on the tip of his tongue. Victor’s phone vibrated, and he glanced at it before his entire body went rigid. The sad look was gone, in place of it a burning fury that made Yuuri feel cold.

 _I’ve seen that look before_ , he thought to himself but then it was gone and Victor was on his feet.

“I’ve got business to attend to,” Victor explained, refraining from physical contact as he inched towards the door and added as an afterthought, “You should get some sleep.”

It wasn’t until later that he realized he’s seen that look on the strange resident hero of St. Petersburg, but that was ridiculous because there was no way the clumsy dork of Victor Nikiforov was an Ice King.

 _Small world we live in_ , the voice chimed in his head and Yuuri found himself agreeing.

{…}

| _Meet at the docks. Don’t wear your costume. I know who you are._

The text had sent a chill down Victor’s spine- especially the last part. _I know who you are._ A nightmare displayed so innocently, but Yuri wasn’t going to let him leave without his outfit so he showed up at the docks dressed as the Ice King and not Victor Nikiforov. Fortunately for him.

“You must not be a gambling man,” a woman’s voice purred, and he found her instantly because she wasn’t hiding.

She had dark skin and even darker hair but it was her eyes that caught his attention. Purple.

He frowned before demanding, “Who are you, and what do you think you know about me?”

She puckered her lips in thought before shrugging slim shoulders and admitting casually, “Nothing, I suppose, though I imagine it wouldn’t be hard to find out. People are such gossips.”

Something loosened in Victor’s chest slightly. She didn’t know. She doesn’t know who he is or who he lives with, which means she won’t hurt those he cares for. Not yet, at least.

He strengthened his spine and puffed out his shoulders as he demanded with a narrowed gaze, “Then why would you say you knew who I was?”

“Why to see how gullible this great Ice King is, of course,” she explained with a causal flip of her hair.

She started towards him, heels clicking on the ground in steady rhythm. Her hips swayed, and she reminded Victor of Yuri. Small and skinny but dangerous. Clever, at least, and Victor was relieved Yuri caught him in the living room on his way out.

 _Panic makes you stupid_ , he chided himself but was careful to keep that off his face as he stared back at her with a chilling gaze.

She reached out, fingers brushing against pale skin. He didn’t move, didn’t flinch, as her nails traced lazy designs up his face.

“You have such beautiful eyes,” she noted with a thoughtful frown before pulling away and staring back at him like she was trying to see behind his mask.

“I could say the same about you,” he replied and she choked out a harsh laugh, turning away.

 _Sore spot_ , he realized though he couldn’t fathom why. She wasn’t hiding her identity from him, and her eyes really were beautiful.

“They remind me of my brother,” she informed him as she walked away, “and believe me, that’s the only thing we share. Dad was worried about the wrong twin.”

Her words didn’t make sense though they sounded important.

“Worried?” Victor asked.

She looked at him once more, sad smile spreading her features as she hummed lowly in the back of her throat.

“You know how dads are. Boys are the devil, and your baby girl is a little angel,” she explained before looking away and added, “Michele got all the angelic genes, leaving me with this.”

She pulled out a gun, quicker than Victor thought possible, pointing it between his eyes. Hers were cold and deadly and he didn’t doubt she’d pull the trigger and lose nothing over it. It also wasn’t the first gun Victor ever had pointed towards him.

Quicker than she could ever hope to move Victor latched onto it and squeezed with his fingers. Ferns of ice spread across the barrel before it shattered completely under his grip. His eyes never left hers.

“So it’s true what they say,” she noted unconcerned and Victor realized what this meeting was about.

“Say what you want and go,” Victor commanded agitatedly.

_Why do these people think I’m just going to let them do whatever they please to my city? Fools, the lot of them._

She tilted her head to the side and claimed, “There’s nothing I can say that you haven’t heard or thought in your head. I won’t be enough to change your mind. You’re _stubborn_.”

Victor shrugged and said nothing. His eyes remained cold and unrelenting, fingers tingling with all the built-up frustration and tension these people have created since coming here. He still wasn’t sure what robbing _diamonds_ had to do with anything.

“So a warning instead, I think,” she said and her face was an indifferent mask but her eyes were smoldering with emotion, “Your city will withhold an attack unlike anything you’ve ever known. People will get hurt and some may die but those will just be causalities. Do yourself a favor and don’t take it personally.”

“I won’t stand back and let you hurt innocent people,” Victor informed her and she shrugged, turning away.

“Probably for the best. He was going to hurt them regardless where you stood,” she told him, and he frowned.

“He?” Victor repeated, and her eyes were laughing at him when she glanced over her shoulder at him, “You mean this Masked Phantom menace?”

“Oh darling,” she purred, “We’re all just spokes on a wheel turning and turning, playing our parts so obediently. It’ll do you wise to not exam it so closely otherwise you’ll get the wrong impression.”

“Another he? There’s more of you?” Victor demanded, chest tightening at the thought of being outnumbered so much.

He’s only one man, but he’s the only one this city is going to get so he’ll have to try. If nothing else, the people in his life have taught him that.

She shrugged again before starting to walk away from him. His brain screamed at him to chase her, to run her down and drag her back and demand answers from her, but he was tired and hungry and still had a child with school tomorrow and a hungover roommate who had to be at work tomorrow. Not to mention his own job.

So he let her go, thinking of Yuuri and how he obviously doesn’t feel what Victor thought he did. He didn’t go home immediately. He found an aggravated robbery that he handled quickly, but he still felt tired and nervous and he hurt whenever he thought of Yuuri’s face when he’d asked if he was drunk.

_I misread him. My fault. Honest mistake._

He found a drug dealer after the robbery and beat the crap out of him before he saved a bus full of people and none of it alleviated the thorns wrapped around his heart because _the way Yuuri looked at him hurt._

 _You learned to love_ , his brain reasoned, _so can Yuuri. Give him time._

_Idiot. After this morning you’d be lucky if he doesn’t move out when he’s feeling better. You’re going to die a bitter old man because you’re so stupid._

Victor was halfway home before he decided what he was going to do.


	9. The Great Grey World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor moves on from the gala and so does everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not under the illusion that the end of this chapter isn't going to make some of you angry. It should. It will also make it difficult to believe this fid was originally meant to be crack but, obviously, it is not. So sorry. On both accounts.

“So who’s your Swiss friend?” Leo asked him the next day at work.

Victor frowned at him before demanding, “What?”

“Your Swiss friend,” Leo continued undeterred and his smile was bright and oblivious before continuing, “He was here the other day. You two seemed quite acquainted with one another. An old flame, perhaps?”

Victor’s stomach soured as his mind wandered to Yuuri drunk and dressed only in his underwear and hugging him. It brought forth something he’s never felt with anyone else before, and it somehow made all the other relationships Victor ever had seem meaningless.

Chris had never been that to Victor, though, so thinking of him shouldn’t bring memories of Yuuri and how he made him feel. It just did, and now he couldn’t push the feelings back.

“Chris isn’t an old flame. Just an old friend,” Victor replied dryly before returning to stacking cups on the counter.

Leo stepped beside him. He was frowning at him, but in a teasing sort of way. Something about it set Victor’s internal alarm off, alerting him to something being wrong.

“You look tired. Are you sleeping well?” Leo inquired almost too sweetly as he blinked back at him feigning innocence.

 _No_ , Victor could’ve answered and he wouldn’t have been lying, _I was up all night because the man I fell in love with made it clear he doesn’t feel the same._

“I’m fine,” Victor lied but it felt wrong so he added, “I just have a lot on my mind right now.”

Leo crossed his arms and followed him with his eyes as he moved to wipe down some of the tables before they opened. Seung-gil was in the back taking inventory, leaving Leo free and bored and pestering Victor.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Leo asked him, voice kind and gentle and sent a warning tingling down Victor’s spine.

Victor glared at him as he answered coldly, “No.”

Leo held his hands up in a surrendering gesture. He was smiling and it was soft and tender and everything Victor didn’t want at that moment. He was burning up inside, a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. It was like all his powers had built up inside him and was desperate to break free.

The curse of all users. A feeling Victor hasn’t felt since Yakov and Lilia accepted him in their lives. This time was different though. It wasn’t rage or fear that was causing the ice to bubble up inside him.

“You sure about that?” Leo probed tipping his head to the side, “I’ve been told I’m a wonderful listener.”

“I don’t need anyone to talk to because I don’t have anything to talk about,” Victor snapped before a pang of guilt struck his chest and he apologized, “I’m sorry. I just need some space”

Leo hummed and nodded thoughtfully. His eyes were bright, and it made Victor uncertain.

“You shouldn’t listen to your head with matters of the heart,” Leo told him as he smiled and added, “and love isn’t as fickle as a thing as you may think. Not like alcohol, I mean.”

The words were odd and obviously chosen with precision and care. It wasn’t just random advice.

Blue eyes narrowed and Victor demanded defensively, “What’re you getting at?”

Leo shrugged. His eyes flickered over to the door and his frown deepened. Victor followed his eyes, surprised to see Chris bundled in a puffy jacket and thick scarf standing outside the door. He smiled and waved when he caught Victor’s eye.

“I’m going to help Seung-gil,” Leo informed him though Victor wasn’t really listening.

Victor nodded at his voice, moving towards the door. Chris’s grin brightened as he cupped his hands and blew inside them. Victor realized it was getting colder now that winter was nearing, but when he opened the door his skin didn’t even tingle.

“We’re closed,” Victor informed him curtly.

“Only for two more minutes,” Chris said with a dramatic pout that stretched back into a smile moments later and he exclaimed, “I’m checking up on you. You looked a little odd after Yuuri left Saturday.”

“I’m fine,” Victor reassured, stepping aside so he can enter.

Chris bounced inside, eyes shining. Victor smirked at his back, the sight of his friend quelling most of the pressing ice inside him. Chris’s smile as he turned to stare at him once more dissipated the rest of it.

“You look tired. Are you sleep deprived?” Chris asked him, still smiling but his voice betrayed his concern.

“I’m fine,” Victor promised as he rubbed his face, “I just-”

Chris reached out and grabbed his hand, voice soft and knowing, as he assured, “I know. I was there, remember? I saw your face.”

“Yeah, well. It was a misunderstanding,” Victor informed him though the ice was absent in his voice, “Yuri’s been calling me idiot for years now.”

“Is that what you think?” Chris asked him.

Victor frowned at the words but didn’t get a chance to inquire what he meant by that. Not when the next moment Chris’s face contorted to one of intense pain. A cry of pain escaped his lips, and his knees buckled out from underneath him, toppling over like a puppet whose string had been sliced.

“Chris!” Victor exclaimed in sudden alarm as he leapt forward to catch his friend on his way down.

Chris opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a pained grunt. He choked on whatever he was trying to say, and Victor felt the ice return with his panic. He swallowed it back, fingertips tingling.

“Victor!” Leo exclaimed as he suddenly reappeared; his eyes were wide and frantic and Victor imagined he looked the same.

Leo’s alarm didn’t register, however. All Victor saw was another person, someone who _had_ to be in a better mindset than him because Chris was making terrible choking sounds in his lap, and Victor couldn’t fathom why or if he was going to be alright.

“Get help,” Victor begged, fingers gripping Chris like he was subconsciously afraid if he let go then Chris would leave.

“Chris?” Leo asked instead, voice calm and collected, and he reached out to pet the side of his cheek.

Chris responded.

He gasped out a strangling breath, fingers scratching at Victor’s arm. His eyes were glassy and white, but he was breathing. _Thank God_ he was breathing.

Victor glanced up and saw Seung-gil staring back. Something in his eyes sent chills down Victor’s spine. Then his name was gasping out of Chris’s mouth, and his focus was back on his friend.

“Chris?” he asked, concerned and anxious and hopeful.

Chris gagged before sucking in a deep breath and nodded. Victor helped him to sit up as Leo watched fretfully, careful to keep his distance. His eyes still seemed wide, but he looked otherwise unfazed by the near death experience.

“You okay?” Leo inquired gently, and Chris looked at him like it was the first time he’s ever seen him; his silence was unnerving.

“Chris?” Victor half-asked, half-begged.

Chris’s eyes moved back to his and a smile stretched over his features as he hummed, “I’m alright. Thanks Vitya.”

Victor just nodded, swallowing cotton. Now that Chris was speaking and sitting up and color was returning to his cheeks, the ice was fading back to the corners of his mind. Dark places Victor refused to ever allow himself to venture but panic always made him reckless.

“Are you dizzy?” Leo asked reaching out to grasp Chris’s arm, “Does your stomach feel upset? Do you think you can stand?”

Chris nodded before holding out his arms to be lifted up. Victor and Leo obliged, Victor’s hands lingering in case Chris suddenly toppled over again. Chris seemed otherwise fine, though, and he didn’t miss the look Leo and Seung-gil gave one another.

“What happened?” Victor asked feeling like an idiot, feeling like he should already know.

“I’m fine,” Chris reassured once more, “I just felt a sharp pain all of a sudden.”

That did nothing to reassure Victor as he pestered with a new burst of worry hands pawing at his friend, “Did you have a stroke? A heart attack? Chris you need a hospital.”

Chris smiled thinly as he gently pushed away Victor’s advances promising, “I don’t need a hospital. I’m fine darling. Thank you for your concern.”

“You _looked_ fine before you suddenly collapsed,” Victor reminded- unhelpfully if the looks everyone else in the room gave him were any indication.

Chris’s fingers rubbed small circles in Victor’s forearm.

“ _Please_. Chris,” Victor begged in that way he knew Chris could never deny him of anything.

“Alright. If just to make you shut up,” Chris finally relented, bending over to plant a soft kiss amongst silver hair.

Victor didn’t hide the bright smile from his face, but something in Chris’s eyes quickly made it drop. He frowned instead, dreading what was coming next.

“And _you_ are going to the ice rink,” Chris added as he pressed a finger against Victor’s chest.

Victor’s cheeks flamed, and he suddenly became aware of the eyes eating at his back. His skin itched, ice tingling across his fingertips. He swallowed down his powers and his urges and forced himself to stare into Chris’s eyes.

“I thought you couldn’t ice skate,” Leo teased and Victor didn’t have to look to see his smile- he _heard_ it just like he felt Chris’s eyes squint at him thoughtfully.

“He won’t be going for the ice,” Chris said, surprising Victor because he was one of the few who _knew_ but then he caught the thoughtful glint in his friend’s eyes and his stomach solidified even as Chris turned to Leo and Seung-gil and asked so sweet, “Is it alright if Victor walks me outside?”

Leo shrugged, eyes flickering unsurely towards Victor.

“It is not our place to boss Victor around,” Seung-gil spoke.

“ _Great!_ ” Chris beamed before he dragged a slightly reluctant Victor out into the cold.

“I’m glad you’re so excited to go to a hospital, but this is _a bit_ strange for you,” Victor told his friend as they stopped by the road.

When he looked at Chris, though, his face was all serious lines and dark edges and he urged, “Do us all a favor, Vitya. Quit this job. Go to the ice rink. I’m sure Yakov would be more than thrilled to hire you.”

Victor balked at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. This wasn’t Chris trying to be noisy. He wasn’t trying to invest himself into Victor’s love life. This was Chris being protective.

Victor tipped his head to the side and probed, “I thought you liked me working here? Said my uniform made me look cute.”

Chris forced a smile across his features as he reached out to grip Victor’s arms and he reassured, “You do look cute. You look adorable, but I still remember how you look on the ice. It’s one of the few times I’ve ever seen you truly happy.”

“And I appreciate your concern,” Victor promised earnestly, taking Chris’s hand in his own and holding it, “Truly I do but I can’t suddenly start teaching classes at the rink.”

Chris’s expression turned slightly smug as he jested, “Because you can’t ice skate. I do wonder where people started picking up that notion. _Hmm?_ ”

Victor’s face got hot as embarrassment washed over him. It was all the answer Chris needed, and he removed his hand from Victor’s grip so he could clap Victor on his shoulder with it.

“Love built on lies isn’t love at all,” Chris told him briskly before taking Victor’s wrist in his palm and pressed a gentle kiss amongst Victor’s knuckles.

Victor reclaimed his hand immediately and reminded him with a pained twist in his chest, “Yuuri doesn’t feel the same. There’s no love lost between us because there was never any love between us.”

Chris scoffed before he said, “You’re as clueless as you are cute, Vitya. Quit this job. Find a new one if you must, but leave this one.”

Victor gave him a reassuring smile as he lied, “I’ll think about it.”

{…}

“Are you still angry with me?”

Yuri turned to glare at JJ and, in turn, Isabella. She never seems to leave his side and at first Yuri admired her loyalty but now he just found it annoying. More so than JJ’s constant kicked puppy expression.

JJ didn’t acknowledge the glare. If anything his eyes just got wider and impossibly deep whereas Isabella fixated him with a glare of her own. Apparently she was equally peeved at Yuri for his sudden aloofness. Yuri just didn’t feel like forgiving them for the bathroom incident- even though technically it was neither of their faults.

Whatever. It’s not like that mattered. Yuri was obligated to blame whomever he liked and it could go so much smoother if they took the hint and kindly backed out of his life. It’s not like they were friends or anything.

“Come on JJ. I think Yuri wants to walk home alone,” Isabella urged when Yuri’s glare didn’t waver under hers.

She tugged at his arm- like she always did as if it was a damn leash and JJ was her damn puppy who lovingly followed her around and nipped at her ankles for attention. JJ slipped his arm free, eyes still wide with his concern about Yuri not considering him a friend (which had been a dumb thing on his part to begin with because _why_ would Yuri think like that) but they adopted a sharp edge to them as well.

“I’m not letting him walk home by himself,” JJ informed her briskly and when she started with a noise of protest he wheeled on her with a glare that made her sink back as he growled out, “and you know why.”

Yuri made a mental note to ask what he meant by that when he decided he was going to stop pretending they didn’t exist. Or when Victor finally caved and gave him the friendship-is-hard-but-so-rewarding speech. Whichever came first.

Instead, though, he hefted his backpack higher on his back and announced, “I don’t care what you two do, but you know where I live so I can’t stop you from stalking me.”

Then he wheeled around and stomped towards the gates. It was the closest thing they were going to get to an apology at the moment, and JJ snatched at it, eagerly chasing after him. Yuri hid his victorious smirk when he concluded Isabella wasn’t the only person that had JJ on a leash.

 _You shouldn’t put anybody on leashes_ , Victor’s voice chided him in his brain, _people are not toys and they are definitely not pets._

Yuri growled at him because he knew he was right. Victor was a certified idiot, but more often than not he was right. For whatever reason the universe was crooked enough to curse them with a moron that’s never wrong because _somehow_ that made sense.

JJ, who had been babbling about school (Yuri’s ninety percent sure) silenced instantly. Unsure eyes drifted over to him, and they lingered. He didn’t say anything about it, though, because somewhere along the line he’d gotten the impression Yuri would eventually warm up to him with time.

 _That_ particular realization had come with a shock as Yuri helped haul Yuuri’s drunk ass from the gala, and he cursed whoever decided he needed to be surrounded by well-meaning idiots.

Yuri sucked in a breath before releasing it before he asked, “What do your parents do?”

 _Not that he cared_ , Yuri could’ve added but then that would’ve made the fact that he had asked that question in the first place ridiculous.

And- for the briefest moment- Yuri saw JJ’s face flicker to a dangerous expression before melting into an easy smile. Too swift. Practically had never appeared in the first place but Yuri was good at watching people. He was good at _noticing_.

“My dad is a business man,” JJ explained and it sounded natural, “His company is dispersed pretty evenly around the globe, which is great for business but terrible for growing up. Lots of moving around and new schools with new people.”

Yuri nodded his condolences. It was something he found he could relate to.

“And your mom?” Yuri probed when he realized JJ had comfortably decided to end the conversation with that.

JJ’s face soured and he didn’t bother hiding it as he said, “My mom doesn’t do anything except protest in whatever city we’re in.”

Yuri didn’t have to ask to know what she was protesting against. It’s what everybody seemed to protest against anymore. _Users_. Users sharing the same benefits and the same jobs and trying to live their lives like everyone else.

JJ was quick to shrug indifferently as he clarified, “She can do whatever the hell she wants though because she’s rich, and it’s not like it matters. Not when there’s heroes out there people still look up too.”

“Yeah,” Yuri agreed, stomach souring, “Not many though.”

JJ glanced at him before the sky as he informed, “You’re lucky you live here. The Ice King is a good man.”

Yuri bristled- like he always did when it involved Victor because Victor took him in when they were both broken and at their rock bottoms and they somehow recovered with each other and _dammit_ now he was going to cry in front of _JJ_.

“He’s a good man,” Yuri snapped defensively, spinning on JJ with fire and hate in his eyes.

JJ raised his arms in a passive gesture, Isabella jumping to match Yuri’s venomous expression. Yuri hadn’t even realized she’d followed.

“You’re the one who brought up his parents,” she reminded him like he’d suddenly jumped down JJ’s throat about the Ice King and Victor and why was it always so hard whenever he was involved?

So Yuri focused the brunt of his glare on her, JJ instinctively scooted protectively between the two. It was too much at the moment because this wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t the one people needed to protect from others- not when there’s still people out there who hate users because they were different.

 _Dammit_ he was really going to cry which only made him angrier.

So Yuri’s eyes flickered between the two of them before he huffed out a hostile, “ _Whatever_ ,” and stomped away.

They didn’t follow. Apparently leashes could only be stretched so far before snapping and glaring at Isabella was crossing the line. _Figures._

Either way Yuri only made it across the street before a white van parked several meters away exploded. Yuri didn’t remember much after that.

{…}

Yuuri had been on lunch break when he got the message.

He had his skates on and was helping guide Victor through the simplest steps but every time Victor moved his foot he was crashing onto the ice. It was almost enduring how equal parts determined and bad he was at skating.

His phone buzzed on the wall, screen lighting up. Yuuri frowned but Victor reassured that it was fine and he was sore from all the falling and could use a break.

“I’m sure,” Yuuri reassured understandingly before gliding gracefully to see his phone.

He turned, half expecting for Victor to shyly be hiding his eyes as he secretly watched his graceful movements like all students as bad as Victor did. Victor didn’t even seem to notice, having made it to the gate and was sucking water down like a fish.

_Curious._

Then he read the message, and everything else faded away.

{…}

“ _Yuri!_ ” JJ screamed, and Isabella tried holding him back because she’d seen as well as he had.

One moment Yuri was stomping furiously away from them like they’d cross some line (which maybe they had and maybe they hadn’t, it’s not like it mattered now) and then the next the world had been engulfed in a bright light as invisible hands shoved them to the ground.

JJ had scrambled to his feet instantly, screaming the blonde’s name. He didn’t answer- couldn’t answer because they felt the blast from where they stood and Yuri had been a lot closer and there was no way he survived that

 _Unfortunate casualties_ , her brain betrayed her as she followed JJ into the smoke and chaos.

They passed several people lying in the road. Cars were flipped over, and the fire was still burning. Smoke replaced air and she could barely see where she was going. Glass crunched under her feet and people were broken and bleeding and begging for mercy all around them, drowned out by JJ’s desperate calls.

_Yuri was just a kid. He can’t be- something this terrible couldn’t have happened. Not in St. Petersburg. Not to Yuri._

Then she bumped into JJ’s back and nearly toppled on top of Yuri’s limp form.

He was paler than normal in the spots that wasn’t dark with blood or mottled black from burns. His head was tilted to the side, burns running along his neck and cheek and chest. His arms and legs were contorted in unnatural angles; the outfit he’d been wearing scorched and dark and he looked like a broken doll.

 _No. This is wrong_ , her brain protested as it simultaneously short-circuited, _no one that strong should look so fragile._

Her heart pounded against her skull in denial and anger and fear. JJ was worst because JJ was in _hysterics_.

Tears were streaking down his pale cheeks as he reached out to shake Yuri’s limp form before he realized it was a bad idea and they just sort of hovered over a too thin chest and arms and legs as he begged the kid to answer. Isabella swore she could count the kid’s ribs if she bothered- ribs that were moving in the faintest irregular way.

“This isn’t right,” JJ growled, interrupting her thoughts and she looked up to see real burning fury in his eyes- the kind that got people dead, “Not Yuri. _Dammit!_ _Not Yuri!_ ”

His eyes had already adapted the low red glow they got whenever JJ allowed his control to slip, and he was about to make a bad situation worst. She glanced down at Yuri- impossibly little Yuri who was burned and bleeding and miraculously still alive- and she hated what she knew what she had to do next.

She reached out and hauled JJ to his feet. He didn’t resist much- mind stuck on Yuri’s death. The word made her flinch because she knew there was still a chance. If they got him to a hospital there would still be hope, but there wasn’t time for any of that. Not when JJ was about to lose control, and she always knew if she had to choose between Yuri or JJ she’d always chose the latter.

_Please forgive me._

“We can’t stay here,” she told him before pulling him away and he protested but didn’t resist.

“We shouldn’t leave him!” JJ called to her as they ducked down an alleyway and ran for blocks, “We shouldn’t- something like this shouldn’t have happened to him! He was just a kid! _Isa!_ ”

He jerked them to a stop and whirled her around, mouth open to continue about how unfair it all was. He froze at her expression, though, and his eyes narrowed distrustingly. This was it.

“What?” he demanded voice sharp and hard and still dangerous- eyes still burning.

She considered- very briefly- lying to him. JJ had the potential to be dangerous, for sure, but she never cared about that. She loved him and would do anything to protect him and sometimes that meant lying. Only he learned to pick out whenever she decided to lie to his face.

“He hadn’t been dead yet,” Isabella admitted, tears mixing with the snow that had started to fall, “He’d been alive. _Barely_ alive but alive. There had still been a chance.”

_Had._

It was gone now because JJ had been moments from losing his control and branding himself a user and she had needed to get him. JJ didn’t seem to realize- or he didn’t care. He jerked his arm free, body thrumming with his anger.

Yuri was lost to them because she chose JJ. A long time ago she swore she’d always chose JJ but never imagined she could lose him because of it.

“I’m going back,” he announced like the fool he was turning away from her and she just wanted to protect him why couldn’t he see that, “I’m not- I can’t believe you left him.”

He wasn’t yelling, which seemed like the worst thing he could’ve done to her in that moment.

He was calm and taunt and nothing like the person he’d become when he thought he’d stumbled along Yuri’s corpse. He was everything his mom feared- everything Isabella promised to protect him from but she didn’t know how to protect him from her.

“JJ!” she called, jumping up to latch onto his wrist as she dug her heels into the snow and silently begged for him to obey like he always had before.

This was different. She’d betrayed him- sentenced Yuri to die. There was no forgiving after that. There was no obedience, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try.

“JJ, please!” her voice wavered in her cry because she could feel Yuri’s absence in the world- a dark hole that just suddenly opened up and refused to swallow anyone else, leaving them to their pain.

He slung her away, turning so she could see his face. His eyes were no longer glowing but they were nothing like the soft love struck things she was used to. They were cold and hard and hateful and she couldn’t blame him. She hated herself too.

Yuri hadn’t deserved that. None of those people had, but she hadn’t known them.

“You left him to die,” JJ accused her, voice hollow and dead because he must have suddenly realized why she was crying.

She pulled her legs to her chest, hugging them tightly. Tears were streaking her makeup down pale skin, smudging it around her eyes. A false impression of a mask.

 _I condemned Yuri to death so JJ could live_ , and she’d do it again. Damn her, she’d do it again in a heartbeat.

“You left him to die,” JJ repeated as he refound his anger, “We could’ve kept him alive until help got there but you ran off! You saw and you knew and you ran off!”

“You were losing it,” Isabella informed him without looking at him, without any emotion at all, “You were on the brink and I couldn’t let you.”

“Damn that Isabella and damn you! He could’ve had a chance but you ran away!” he screamed before he blinked and added as his shoulders sagged under the weight his new thoughts gave him, “I ran away. I left him to die. I didn’t even see. He was right there and I didn’t even-”

“You had to run away so you could live,” she reminded him, “No one can know who you are. Yuri and those people were-”

“Were what?” JJ demanded as he glared at her, “Say it. You’ll sound as bad as he does. Go ahead. Spit it out. Be just like him.”

She jutted out her chin and managed a firm, “I won’t.”

JJ stared for a long moment before he turned his back to her and whispered soft and broken and filled with so much empty space, “You already are.”

{…}

“I’m sure he’s fine Victor,” Yuuri tried to reassure but Victor wasn’t really listening, “He’s probably already at home waiting for us to get off work. He might even have dinner started.”

Victor leaned forward, tapped the shoulder of the man whose car Victor just suddenly forced themselves into with a barked address and he asked, “Is there any way you can drive faster?”

“I’m already pushing the speed limit buddy,” the man growled angrily because that wasn’t the first time Victor requested for him to drive faster.

It was the first time he didn’t immediately speed up, however.

“Look man,” Victor begged because there had been an explosion not long after Yuri’s school let out and it had been along his normal route, “Please. I’m begging.”

“So what?” the man demanded a little too harsh and Victor was already running on empty _what-ifs_.

Victor smacked the back of his arm against the headrest of the driver’s seat. He felt it connect, seconds later hearing the sharp cry of pain before the car jolted to a sudden stop.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” the driver was already demanding, turning in his seat and Victor was almost tempted to stay and beat the guy until all the panic and rage subsided from Victor because Yuri wasn’t answering any of his calls or texts and Victor wasn’t strong enough to lose him.

He scrambled out of the too small car and started the rest of the way on foot. He could hear Yuuri scream something behind him but didn’t get out to follow. He probably had enough sense to stay with the driver the rest of the way and pay the fare like a responsible adult and it helped that he wasn’t blinded by the same panic consuming Victor.

Victor made it back first, bursting through the door so suddenly Makkachin barked until realizing it was him. Victor ignored his dog, screaming and begging for Yuri to answer him because the world couldn’t be this cruel. It couldn’t take Yuri from him.

Yuri never answered, though, because Yuri never made it home.


	10. Miles Away, Inches Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri survives the explosion and meets a new user.

Yuri woke up on a too soft bed with the smell of cinnamon and mint assaulting his nostrils. He was also warm, which was strange because Victor’s bed always felt like Victor who always felt _cold_ \- not that Yuri was ever going to be someone to say that out loud. It would break the older man.

When he opened his eyes he found himself staring at an unfamiliar wooden floor covered in a colorful rug with intricate designs woven into the fabric. It looked equal parts old and new and made Yuri very uncomfortable. He also found his body felt good- better than it has in a long while.

He shouldn’t be alive, and he should certainly be in pain. He wasn’t. He was fine even if he feared to get up and check to see in a mirror. He was probably horribly disfigured or something. Old and wrinkly and grey.

 _I swear if I’ve been in a coma for ten years I’m kicking Victor’s ass_ , he decided sourly the same time the door opened and JJ walked in.

No. Not JJ, even if they appeared to be the same age. JJ was taller, though, and would never be caught wearing such a solemn expression. Or so much leather.

“Who are you?” Yuri demanded before deciding he didn’t care because it wasn’t the most pressing issue and immediately asked, “Where’s Victor?”

The man crossed the room, expression staying the same. He didn’t seem particularly surprised by Yuri’s recovery. He sat on the corner of the bed, eyes intense and staring. His sunglasses sat on top of his head, useless and forgotten.

 _I wonder if he knows that makes him look like a douchebag_ , Yuri thought spitefully before realizing he was probably twice the kid’s age now and needed to mature a bit.

“I do not know a Victor,” the kid confessed, and Yuri’s brain halted because there was no doubt Victor would’ve found him and been there unless he couldn’t.

“ _No_ ,” Yuri breathed, voice choked in a sob as the sudden pain of the words _Victor_ and _gone_ and _forever_ crossed his mind.

The kid gave him a strange look before he ventured bravely, “Had he been there when the van exploded? Most of the others had already passed when I got to them.”

Yuri shook his head, fighting back tears and wondering why the kid was talking about the explosion like it happened only a couple hours earlier. Maybe he wasn’t, maybe it was just his sentimentally in his old age.

“Then I’m sure he’s fine,” the kid promised, and Yuri gaped back.

“How could you possibly be so sure?” he demanded, trying to put as much command in his voice as he was capable only it was still high and scratchy and if he was forever cursed as an old man with a child’s voice he was going to _cut_ someone.

The kid’s eyes stared into him for a long moment before he seemed to realize something and he rose back to his feet. He walked to a chest on the other side of the room, grabbing a hand mirror from it and offering it to Yuri. Yuri accepted it reluctantly.

His fifteen-year-old self stared back.

Pale green eyes flickered to the expectant male as he muttered, “I don’t understand.”

“Do you remember the explosion?” the older teen asked and Yuri nodded, “You were gravely injured. I hadn’t finished healing you when help arrived. You would have died if I left you.”

Yuri blinked, calm. Some part of him didn’t think he should be so calm. He should be freaking out because he’d died- or came as close as one could without actually dying. He should be upset because he’d actually been kidnapped, and Victor was probably losing his mind with worry.

He wasn’t freaking out, though, because his skin was unblemished and his hair was shorter than it usually was but still held its pale blonde color. He didn’t hurt either. If he hadn’t woken up in a stranger’s home the explosion could’ve passes as a terrible nightmare.

Except he did wake up in a stranger’s home and it wasn’t a dream and he suddenly realized he wasn’t wearing any of his clothes.

The realization finally shocked him out of the muggy fog that’s clouded his vision since the explosion. He scrambled for the quilt, hugging it around his neck as green eyes stared at the stranger trying to discern what he wanted.

“Answer me this then: what does the Hero of Kazakhstan want with my clothes?” he demanded but there was no heat in his words.

The explosion and the healing sucked most of his strength. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week but knew he couldn’t. Not just yet anyways.

The hero blinked at him. Yuri figured he wasn’t used to people recognizing him. Not when the Hero of Kazakhstan tended to remain in the shadows, emerging only when the casualty number was high and the authorities either couldn’t or wouldn’t do anything for it. The hero is also not a resident of Russia, but St. Petersburg has attracted a lot of foreign attention lately.

“Don’t worry,” Yuri reassured as he thought of Victor and his own secret, “I’m not most people and as long as you hold off bringing people here and confessing to your powers you should be fine.”

The hero wasn’t impressed. Yuri folded his legs underneath his body as he shifted so he was closer to the hero, curious. He was so much different than Victor. Victor was all brittle smiles and gentle lies. This person wasn’t trying to trick him, had seemingly accepted his fate to help a stranger. Yuri’s heart felt for him.

Yuri reached out but never felt contact as his hand settled between them on the bed and he promised, “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.”

The hero’s stoic face softened minutely. Easy to miss if Yuri hadn’t been staring at him so intently. It was enough.

Yuri figured now was a good as time as any and he was starting to feel self-conscious so he ventured, “Where did you place my clothes?”

The hero’s eyes remained distant and uninterested as he explained, “They were ruined. I took the liberty of discarding them for you.”

Yuri tugged the blanket tighter to his chest. He was uncomfortable, which was a weird combination with the gratefulness he also felt. He’d be dead or permeantly scarred without this man, but he also felt lost and vulnerable and he’d enjoy nothing more than to leap towards him and beat answers out of him.

He didn’t- couldn’t.

He swallowed and inquired, “So why me? Why heal only me?”

Dark eyes grew darker and grave as he explained, “The ones closest to the van died instantly. You were the first one I found alive and hadn’t finished healing when help arrived. If I left halfway you would’ve certainly died, and I couldn’t stay any longer so I brought you back here.”

Yuri acknowledge his words with a hum and silence settled between them. It wasn’t the comfortable silences he used to share with Victor when he was young and Victor was trying to make up for his initial cold demeanor towards him. They’d sit on the couch, Yuri tucked against Victor’s side as the older man played idly with his hair and silence settled around them and he’d thought _this is what normal people felt._

It wasn’t one of those awkward tense silences he’s felt whenever people realized he was an orphan and stared at him with pity and twisted sympathy. He’d have to gnaw on the bottom of his lip to prevent him from saying anything smart, crossing his arms over his chest to prevent himself from lashing out. His grandpa always hated his temper.

This silence was long and thin, but it wrapped around Yuri like a comforting blanket. The healing had suddenly caught up with him, and his shoulders sagged as exhaustion threatened to pull him under once more. He couldn’t though. Not here.

His body was already betraying him and he felt his mind slipping towards unconsciousness. He sagged with it, falling onto a soft mattress surrounded by plush warmth and the cinnamon-mint smell that encompassed his small form.

“I will let you rest,” the hero announced, rising to his feet and Yuri’s body rebelled however weakly it turned out being.

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuri murmured and it came out as a whine but he didn’t care because he needed Victor as much as he knew Victor needed him at that moment.

But then his mind pulled him down into the cotton infused softness of unconsciousness.

{…}

The next time he awoke his mind was clearer and his body was stronger. A pair of sweatpants and white sleep shirt was folded by the bed along with a pair of underwear and he slipped into them gratefully. They were loose and dangled off thin hips and even thinner shoulders but they worked and Yuri was grateful.

Bare feet crept across the wooden floor as he moved towards the door and out into the hall. The hall was bare- not so much as a picture dangling from an old nail on the wall. It was also a hideous avocado green that assaulted the eyes and clashed with the rich red carpet rolled over the wooden floorboards.

He found the hero in what must have served as the living room. It was small but it surprisingly worked as it wasn’t cramped with furniture. The hero was reading a newspaper ( _people still read those?_ ) but he glanced up when Yuri entered.

“I made you something to eat,” the hero told him, gesturing towards the open kitchen before eyes focusing back on the paper.

Curious Yuri padded into the kitchen and found a blue pot sitting on the stovetop. He lifted the lid from it, glancing down into it. Chicken noodle soup. The smell alone made Yuri’s stomach grumble and twist painfully.

He turned to ask about bowls, mouth open and words on the tip of his tongue only for it to die almost instantly. The hero was standing so close their backs could’ve been touching if Yuri didn’t jump back in shock. The edge of the counters dug into his hipbones, pressing and persistent and uncomfortable. Not yet painful but certainly unpleasant.

The man reached out to open the cabinet by Yuri’s head. He pulled out a bowl and handed it to him, eyes never leaving him. Yuri glared the whole time, stomach knotting for completely different reasons.

“What’s your problem asshole,” Yuri finally snapped, irritated at being cornered and hungry and worried about what Victor was doing at that moment.

The hero’s face remained impassive as he turned to walk back towards his chair. Yuri watched him unmoving, glass bowl cold in his tight fists. His knuckles were white and pressing tightly against his skin. He forced his hands to relax as he took calming breaths in an attempt to quell his temper.

He set the bowl on the cabinet, moving forward so he was standing in the middle of the kitchen staring at the hero in his chair. It was as far as he allowed himself to dare, forcing himself to remain levelheaded and whatever passed as calm for him.

“Do I get a name at least?” Yuri demanded.

The hero didn’t even glance up as he replied evenly, “You have a name.”

Yuri growled softly, irritated, before he ground out, “I meant _your_ name. Your real name, the one your parents gave you. Not strangers.”

The hero’s eyebrows rose to his forehead and those cryptic eyes found him once more. They made his skin itch and he had to force himself to not squirm in his discomfort.

Then they disappeared back to his paper and he offered, “Otabek.”

Yuri swallowed, nodded, and something unseen meowed softly. The sound prickled Yuri’s ears, and his heart leapt.

“You have a cat,” Yuri announced a little too eager and a little too happy and he was well aware he sounded like an excited child.

Otabek gave him a curious look that was ignored as the next moment a fluffy white and black Himalayan cat leapt on the counter. Yuri’s heart melted as a giddy sound (of which he is not embarrassed by because it was one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen before) escaped his mouth.

The cat took to him as fast as he took to her, it seemed, as the cat started to purr and rub against his hands and arms when he reached out to pet her. He hugged the cat to his chest, soft fur tickling his nose and chin.

“Aw. What’s her name?” Yuri cooed, smile stretching his face.

Otabek was staring at him strangely now. His face was still a serious mask of hard lines and sharp edges but softer than before. Not gentle or sappy like Victor’s face adopts whenever Yuri’s playing with Makkachin but a little less serious. A little less detached.

He didn’t move from the chair as he offered, “Potya.”

“She’s so _precious_ ,” Yuri gushed fondly, long hair tickling his face as the cat rubbed against his cheeks and nose.

“She was a gift from my parents,” Otabek explained before asking, “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Yuri admitted as his stomach twisted and gurgled at him angrily so he concluded, “Hungry. I miss Victor.”

“I’ll take you back to him as soon as you eat,” Otabek promised, folding the paper in his lap, “and I suggest you take it easy the next couple of days. Your body is adjusting from the sudden change.”

Yuri nodded, hiding his grin inside Potya’s fur. He wouldn’t ever admit it to the silver haired idiot but his heart did a goofy little flutter at the promise of getting back to Victor. Otabek seemed to pick up on it but didn’t comment. Yuri was grateful.

Instead Otabek commanded from behind the newspaper, “Eat your soup.”

Yuri could hear the smile in his voice. He didn’t comment on it.

{…}

“Why am I wearing this?” Yuri asked, tipping the back helmet over his head so he could see once more.

Otabek had blacked out the face shield so when Yuri had it on he couldn’t see anything. He also had insulated the insides so he couldn’t hear anything either. It would’ve been impressive if Yuri wasn’t expected to _wear_ it.

“I can’t risk you remembering how to get here,” Otabek explained and Yuri scowled at him because that wasn’t fair.

“What if I want to remember?” Yuri challenged with a pout, “What if I want to visit?”

Otabek shoved the helmet back over his face in reply. Yuri glared at the sudden darkness but didn’t dare take the helmet back off. Not when Otabek made it clear that he wasn’t going to take him home until he was certain Yuri was going to obey him.

It still saddened him when he thought of how Otabek didn’t want his location to be known. He couldn’t fathom why but trusted he had good reason. His heart ached at the thought of parting with his savior, but it hurt more the longer he remained separated from Victor.

The idiot was probably losing his mind with worry. He would never say it out loud because it would make him sound like a creepy old man but Victor memorized every route Yuri’s ever taken since moving in with him. He had alarms set on his phone for when Yuri started home. He would’ve been able to place the pieces together. Yuri could only hope that he didn’t think he was dead.

Otabek settled in place in front of him on the motorcycle. Yuri felt hands- larger than his own and warm and rough with callouses, a worker’s hand- wrap around his own and guide it around Otabek’s waist. Yuri squeezed, conveying he got the message.

As the motorcycle started he allowed his head to wonder. When he’d been eating Otabek explained how he’d been asleep for almost 26 hours, and he’d nearly choked on the broth. He’d thought of the last time he’d been several minutes late coming home from school and how he’d walked into the apartment to see Victor pacing, nose buried in his phone.

Victor had attacked him almost instantly, wrapping him in a warm tight hug. The interrogation came next, demanding to know what kept him and if he was okay and to promise to never make him go through that ever again.

He hadn’t been late longer than ten minutes, having allowed himself to grow distracted gazing inside the store windows seeking inspiration for a Christmas/birthday present for Victor. He’d had to apologize and called Victor foolish for overreacting but he’d been grateful by how much Victor obviously cared.

Twenty-six hours.

He was almost frightened by what awaited him at home. If it wasn’t for the fact that Yuuri adapted so quickly to being able to handle Victor’s emotions then Yuri would’ve dumped the soup in the sink at that moment and commanded to go home _now_.

It was another hour before they stopped, and Otabek was removing his helmet. He blinked, recognizing the street instantly. They were back in St. Petersburg. Five minutes from the apartment walking, and he was thrumming with sudden excitement.

He was five minutes from Victor. Twenty-seven hours later and he was only five minutes away from Victor and yet something was making him linger.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Yuri said suddenly, flushing with emotion.

Otabek’s eyes widened in surprise, but it quickly faded into a startled sort of calm as he nodded. Yuri flashed him another smile as he climbed from the motorcycle. His thighs were sore from the ride and his rear ached and his legs itched to go and never look back. He didn’t. He lingered.

“What are you going to do now?” Yuri asked, “Where are you going to go?”

“I’m going to go back,” Otabek explained, clutching Yuri’s helmet to his chest uncomfortably.

Yuri toed his shoe into the snow before he pulled out one of the pens from his backpack and scribbled his number on a sheet of paper and thrust it at him. Otabek glanced at it and made no move to take it.

“I know you don’t have a phone,” Yuri informed him with a roll of his eyes, “but just in case you happen upon one. I’d love to hear from you. You know, to make sure you’re alright.”

His cheeks were bright red by the end, and his heart had lodged itself in the back of his throat. He felt like a foolish child as he silently urged Otabek to accept the paper. When he did Yuri hadn’t even realized his body was thrumming with tension until it left him with a whoosh of air.

“Take care of yourself,” Otabek said and Yuri smiled and nodded as he stepped back as he watched Otabek start his motorcycle and start away.

Yuri watched him disappear before he turned towards the direction of his apartment and sprinted towards it.

{…}

Victor wouldn’t let him touch him anymore- had stopped allowing it ten hours ago when Yuuri made the mistake of urging giddy happiness into the distraught male. It had calmed him for several quick minutes before Victor had jerked away and returned to his phone, keeping the distance.

He didn’t say anything. He never voiced any of his conclusions, and he didn’t verbally accuse Yuuri of being what he knew he was. He started to dodge all his advances at touching him- however discreet Victor hid it- and without the constant flush of warmth and assurance Yuuri offered he had become tense and agitated and something frightening.

For the first twelve hours Victor never got off the phone. He called the hospital and all the small clinics but they were all dead ends. No John Doe’s by the description of Yuri had been rushed amongst them, and Victor would thank them before hanging up. Each time Yuuri watched Victor’s eyes grow more distraught and less hopeful at finding Yuri alive.

Yuuri wasn’t entirely sure who else Victor called but he occasionally realized he’d gotten Yuri’s voicemail as the older man’s voice would grow soft and needy as he begged for him to be okay and safe and to call him as soon as possible.

Then he ran out of people to call, ran out of contacts to try and beg and he camped in front of the television flipping from news channel to news channel in hopes of seeing something. It wasn’t until three hours ago that the first list of known victims had been released.

Yuri hadn’t been on it. Victor had checked it six times.

That had helped some. It alleviated some of the panic and desperation lurking inside Victor’s shimmering blue eyes. It wasn’t enough, though. Any moment he was going to break, and Yuuri’s heart ached to reach out and take some of his pain away. Except Victor wouldn’t let him touch him anymore.

“You hungry?” Yuuri finally asked because he needed to help him somehow.

He thought back to Yuri on Sunday when he’d threatened him for the sake of Victor. It had been so normal, so average, and most of the attention had been direction towards Yuuri because they hadn’t known that was becoming increasingly more probable to being the last time they’d ever see the kid breathing.

Victor didn’t look at him, didn’t speak to him. He shook his head, eyes focused on the TV as they begged for information on the kid.

Yuri should’ve made it home. Yuri had been near the explosion, and now he just seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth. Yuri’s probably dead, the realization becoming increasingly more apparent every passing moment.

“You should eat,” Yuuri decided but he wasn’t foolish enough to convince himself that he’d be able to get Victor to eat anything he made.

He had to try.

The front door opened the same time he opened the fridge. Soft pants from someone who ran in the frosty Russian temperatures was the only sound for a long tense moment. Nobody moved, Yuuri was certain Yuri was the only one breathing.

Then Victor was on his feet, and Yuri was crumpling into his arms with a strangled sound. Victor’s hands were frantic, moving and touching and patting everywhere he could. Yuri let him, child’s hands fisting into the front of Victor’s shirt. Victor didn’t seem to notice, taking them both to the couch where he planted soft kisses into pale hair and pale skin and soft thanks to no one in particular.

Yuuri almost hated to ruin the moment.

“Yuri what happened to you?” he asked taking care to keep his voice gentle and reassuring and more curious than anything else.

Yuri peaked at him, eyes wide pools of clear green. Victor did too, arms gripping the body in his arms tightly. For the first time in hours he didn’t look moments from shattering. Yuri pulled away, keeping a tight grip to the front of Victor’s shirt. Victor’s arms never let go.

“I-” Yuri started before he scowled and admitted with a sudden fire that sounded so much like the mouthy kid Yuuri met the first day, “I’m fine.”

“You are now,” Victor promised as he pressed his lips against Yuri’s temple as he repeated, “You are now.”

Yuri’s eyes flickered up to his face and his eyes betrayed him. He wasn’t fine, no matter how he looked and he _looked_ fine. His skin was unblemished, and he didn’t appear to be in pain as Victor clutched at him searchingly. Victor couldn’t find any signs of injury.

“You’re not fine Yuri,” Yuuri announced before crossing his arms over his chest and asked, “What happened?”

Victor did glare at him then- warning him from pushing the kid too far so soon. It still seemed rather mild and Yuuri ignored it easily, eyes narrowed on the skinny youth staring curiously at him over Victor’s arm. This time when Yuri pulled away, Victor’s arms loosened themselves before he settled for hands against the teen’s sides.

“The van,” Yuri explained slowly, brow creasing as if thinking of it hurt him and Yuuri was already shaking his head because there wasn’t even a scratch on him.

“You’re unhurt though,” Victor cooed- practically reading Yuuri’s mind- and he hunched over so he was wrapping Yuri in his presence once more.

Yuri’s hand landed on Victor’s chest, small hands splayed amongst the fabric. He pushed just enough that Victor got the message and leaned back, face pinned in a pain expression at being rejected.

“Healer,” was what Yuri offered and the pieces fell together and Yuuri’s stomach knotted and soured as the voice chuckled darkly in the back of his skull- making it buzz.

 _Perhaps some good does come out from the boy’s survival_ , it thrummed and it made Yuuri sick.

He ignored it, like he always did, but the laugh lingered. Buzzing. Echoing. _Mocking_. Yuuri almost wished he knew where the body lay so he could prove just how heartless he was capable of being.

 _You flatter me_ , the voice teased before commanding harshly, _get the name of this healer._

Yuuri would’ve been more than happy to disobey- damn the consequences- but Victor was smarter than Yuri gave him credit for and he breathed, “The Hero of Kazakhstan.”

Yuri nodded, the motion looking sluggish and subdued as shiny eyes stared into Yuuri. He did his best to school his expression, afraid of giving too much away- both out loud and internal. Victor didn’t seem to notice or, rather, he _chose_ not to.

Yuri was back and safe and in his arms and Victor made no indication of letting him go. Yuri looked well and not the lifeless dead pale thing Yuuri feared they were going to eventually find. If anything his cheeks were flushed from the cold, nose tingling a soft red color. The color of life.

And because the voice was still clawing at the corners of his mind, demanding attention and answers, Yuuri tightened his fingers around the fridge’s handle and announced, “I’m going to start dinner.”

Neither male moved to answer or acknowledge him.

He took their silences as an _okay_.

{…}

Yuri must’ve been sleepier than he’d let on as he dozed off before Yuuri finished in the kitchen. The smell accompanied with the slight breathing chest pressed against his own was enough to kick Victor’s instincts back to normal and his stomach tightened, reminding him how hungry he was.

Cradling the back of Yuri’s neck like one would a baby, he reached out to grab the remote from the other end of the couch. Yuri groaned at the movement, eyelids fluttering before he stilled. Victor released a relieved breath, flicking the television off before adjusting Yuri to a more normal position.

He knew enough about healers to know they exhaust the body- both their own and whoever’s life they were saving. It taxed their strength so much that most of them refuse to use their powers at all, deciding instead to hide within the shadows of the crowds.

Out of all users, they were the ones who hid the best. That reason alone was made them so valuable because they were impossible to find and held so many different uses. Could literally save lives- have saved lives.

Victor guided the back of Yuri’s head with his hand, tender as he laid the kid’s head against his chest. Yuri didn’t protest, didn’t even stir, as his warm breath washed over Victor’s skin. Never before had Victor ever welcomed any type of warmth as much as he did then.

His prayers hadn’t been answered when he wished for Yuri to be spared in whatever war other users were trying to inflect upon St. Petersburg. Yuri had been at the explosion- had probably been hurt as the cause- but his life had been saved. He’d been revived and rescued and eventually returned to him, and it filled Victor with a sudden pressing burst of warm and cold he found he couldn’t do much more than hug Yuri to him.

He planted a kiss against Yuri’s temple, lost amongst strands of blonde hair for no other reason except Victor could. Yuri murmured his protests, proving that even in unconsciousness he was still a defiant little brat. Victor sucked in a sob at the thought, tightening his hold as he suppressed tears and _what-could-have-beens_.

Yuri was fine. Yuri was there and alive and Victor could release him any moment he chose and he wouldn’t go anywhere. Even so, Victor couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet.

Instead the hand pressed against Yuri’s hip moved to encircle the kid’s hand. It was pale and small- a child’s hand- and he could feel the bumps of bones underneath the pad of his thumb as it traced small circles into the skin. _Delicate_ , Victor’s brain supplied, _like it should belong to a pianist or an artist._

The world was rarely so kind, Victor knew but it returned Yuri to him so he suspected it wasn’t outright cruel either. Somewhere in the middle then- like that thing Chris had said to him once.

_The world was once black and white but then they combined to make grey and no matter how much white it added back into it, it will always remain grey._

Victor had rolled his eyes, growling something about friends being useless and unneeded children abruptly entering his life. It hadn’t been too long after Yuri was handed to him on his doorstep, and he’d been complaining about how the world had been unfair. Chris had disagreed and glancing down at the sleeping form sprawled across his lap Victor concluded that his friend had been right.

Yuuri returned with two bowls of something that smelt as good as it looked. His stomach grumbled in protest, mouth salivating as his body reminded him he hadn’t eaten anything since hearing of the explosion. Before that he hadn’t had much of an appetite, flashes of Chris pale and struggling to breathe reappearing every time his eyes closed.

Yuuri set the bowls on the coffee table, crouched down at Victor’s side. Large brown eyes were reflecting what little light the room held. A worried frown were pulling at the corners of his mouth and if Victor’s emotions had been strung out of him for the past thirty hours he figured his body would’ve reacted accordingly.

 _Do you even know how beautiful you are?_ he was desperate to ask but refrained, choosing instead to catch that pale wrist as it reached out to rouse Yuri from his sleep.

Those eyes turned towards him, comely face drawn into an unsure frown. Something about his touches, Victor remembered, made him uncomfortable and at a time he’d had a theory but now Yuri was sleeping in his arms- breath making goosebumps dance along pale skin and his heart thumping in time with his own- and all he could think of at the moment was the kid in his arms.

“Let him sleep,” was what Victor offered as an explanation, his own voice subdued and quiet to his ears. He didn’t release Yuuri’s wrist, nor did he make any move to.

Yuuri didn’t seem to mind, hand going limp in his hold. His eyes never left his own- bright and worried and _unsure_. Victor knew whatever faults the man may hold, whatever secrets Victor had suspected only hours ago, he’d be willing to forget with that look alone.

“He needs his strength,” Yuuri protested and apparently his emotions weren’t as spent as he’d earlier suspected as his heart leapt painfully at the words.

 _He was worried about Yuri_ , Victor’s brain bit out at him, _and you wanted to let him go._

“He needs sleep,” Victor answered already burying himself further into sleeping Yuri’s hair, inhaling the scent, as he continued, “The clothes are not his own, and he was absent long past the explosion and cleanup. Whoever healed him took care of him, helped nurse him as best they could. What he needs now is rest.”

_And I’m not strong enough to part with him just yet. Forgive me, I am not strong enough._

Brown eyes stared a moment longer before the softened with defeat and Yuuri nodded, rising back to his feet.

“I’ll place his in the fridge,” he informed Victor and took only one of the bowls back into the kitchen.

Victor gathered the message of that clear enough. Still he didn’t feel like moving as he sat there, hugging Yuri’s sleeping form to his chest. He closed his eyes and finally allowed the tears to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I nearly kill Yuri just to introduce Otabek? Yes. Yes I did. Also we reached our first pivotal point in the story (ones that were concrete and unavoidable in terms of getting the story moving along). Even if it seems like not much happened this chapter.
> 
> Fluff and family bonding and general cuteness ahead, though, so fear not. Also further explanations in the next chapter about what happened between this one and the last one. Stay tuned and remember to review. They're loved in every way.


	11. Victor's got a Dirty Little Secret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The healing process continues and secrets start to unfold. Also Victor's an idiot, but Yuri already knew that.

Victor woke to sunlight creeping through the slit of his curtains. He groaned in protest, the vibrations the noise cause rumbling through the body caught in his grasp. Curious, he cracked his eyes open to find two unamused green ones staring back.

Then everything returned to him.

He bolted upright, dragging Yuri up with him. Yuri protested, more agitated than pained, as he continued to glare. He didn’t wiggle or try to pull away, though, just growled out a few choice words at being manhandled so much.

_He nearly died. I almost lost him._

Victor squeezed the lithe form. It was warm and soft and still very much alive. Victor could feel it, the life thrumming inside the boy. A life saved and returned by a stranger.

“How are you feeling?” Victor asked him, ignoring the small protests bubbling out of Yuri’s mouth, “Are you hungry? Tired? Do you need me to fetch you something?”

He was already clambering off the bed in his rush to cater to Yuri’s needs. He no longer felt that sick useless feeling he had when he’d rushed in the apartment and Yuri hadn’t been there. He’d slipped into some sort of shock- unsure if Yuri was dead or alive. He hadn’t known if he wanted to ice the world over as vengeance or rip it apart looking for the youth.

Yuuri had arrived moments later and unless Victor wanted to out his secret he was forced to stay in the apartment and do nothing. By the end he could his body moments from bursting, and he was tempted to tell Yuuri his greatest secret just so he’d understand if Victor rushed out suddenly.

But then Yuri came back wearing a stranger’s clothes with a backpack scorched and ruined and Victor tried not to think of how Yuri must have been in a similar state. Victor had always known it was fortunate he hadn’t been born a healer because he’d never be strong enough to look at people- innocent men and women and children- at their worst and think: _there’s still hope_.

Someone had and someone had looked at Yuri and they’d saved him and now Victor was forever in their debt and he didn’t even have a name so all he could was ensure all the work wasn’t lost in the process. Yuri caught his wrist in his mad scramble though, pulling him back onto the bed.

“Don’t be an idiot Victor,” Yuri warned in a low growl, eyes glowing back at him like green fire, “I already told you I was fine.”

Victor made a low whining noise, desperate to do something- _anything_ \- to make up for his uselessness when the van exploded and then afterwards when Yuri was missing. Presumed dead. Hopefully alive. Alive and dead. Dead and alive. It had been like a twisted version of Schrodinger’s cat.

“Yuri,” was what strangled from Victor’s throat and he was holding onto Yuri’s wrists once more.

Yuri didn’t push him away. He didn’t suddenly jerk back and strike him. He didn’t give any burst of outward violence or discomfort like he was opt to do whenever Victor showered him with affection. He seemed to need Victor as much as Victor needed him at that moment.

Or perhaps he was just being there for Victor like he always was- like Victor was the child or the one who nearly died and needed to be comforted, needed to reassured.

Yuri took his hands back, his movements slow and careful like one would use when treating a cornered animal. Victor let him, watching with subdued eyes. He watched as Yuri pushed himself onto his knees, reaching out to grab onto the sides of Victor’s face. His voice was soft and gentle and everything Yuri wasn’t.

“I saw the van explode,” he admitted and Victor forget to breath at the admission, “I _remember_ the van exploding. We were fighting- me and JJ and Isabella- and then the van exploded.”

“ _Yura_ ,” Victor gasped and he felt the eyes well into the corners of his eyes but Yuri shushed him by pressing their foreheads together.

“When I woke up all I could think of was returning to you. You’re the closest thing to a home I’ve had for five years, and I’ll always return to you and when you go away know that I’ll wait until you are ready to come back yourself.”

Victor felt a tear escape, trailing down a pale cheek. Yuri kept his grip firm even when Victor felt the protests bubble out of him.

“I’d never leave you,” Victor objected but Yuri shook his head silencing him.

“You helped me when I was weak and now I am strong. You are my strength Victor, but I am not yours. I will always be there for you, though, this I swear.”

And then he pulled away and Victor’s skin felt cold from where Yuri’s flesh had met his own. Victor reached out blindly, hand finding Yuri’s as he focused on breathing. He’d always known Yuri was stronger than him.

They broke away when Yuri’s stomach grumbled, sounding angry. Victor glanced down at it, eyes wide, before his mouth broke into a glowing smile. Yuri’s scowl darkened as his cheeks took on a pink tinge. Victor’s heart leapt at the sight and he yearned to reach out and grasp the kid back to his chest.

Yuri must’ve read his mind as he moved away, off the bed. Victor crawled after him and was rewarded with a hand shoving against his face. He tipped backwards in shock but it hadn’t been hard enough to hurt or knock him over.

“Get yourself together old man,” Yuri snapped at him but his words lacked their normal heat, “I have to get ready for school.”

Victor’s stomach jerked at the word. _School_. Yuri had been injured coming home from school. Yuri was still healing and kids could smell the weakness of others. Yuri must’ve read something off his face because he was glaring at him now.

“I have to go to school,” Yuri informed him like one a slow child and because Victor wasn’t impressed he added, “I’m fifteen. I can’t quit school.”

“Then don’t quit,” Victor reasoned, “just take the rest of the week off.”

Yuri’s glare darkened. Victor hadn’t expected for this conversation to go over well, but he wasn’t going to lie over submissively either. Not about this but his relief with Yuri being alive overwhelmed his ability to get angry with him.

So he blinked at him- eyes wide and pleading- as he reached out to trap Yuri’s thin wrist in his own and he added in a low whine, “ _Please_. Just until the end of the week. It’s only three days.”

“But I missed yesterday,” Yuri reminded him with a poke to his forehead and that time it was hard enough to send Victor tipping backwards.

He released Yuri’s wrist and he retreated back into the room- towards his boxes. Victor figured whenever he got Yuri to see sense and stay home, where it was safe. Makkachin would protect him until Victor got off work- of which he was running late to.

“You need rest Yuri,” Victor told him instead of saying something smart back to the teenager, “You need to sleep and relax and not strain yourself. I know you know enough about healing to know this.”

Yuri’s eyes hardened stubbornly. Victor stared back but he couldn’t have brought himself to match the stare if he’d wanted. Anger or glaring was difficult whenever he looked at Yuri and his heart leapt with relief at the sheer life rolling off the kid and he thought getting upset with the youth had been difficult in the _past_.

“I’m not an _idiot_ Victor, and I’m not a child. I can make my own decisions and I’m going to school,” Yuri snapped at him, eyes intense and burning and unrelenting.

_Stubborn child._

His words hadn’t hurt like Yuri intended them to- nor whatever the kid thought they caught up with his brain. Yuri’s eyes widened, and he looked remorseful. It wouldn’t be the first time- the kid’s anger usually clouding his words and actions.

Victor had already learnt how to handle an angry Yuri. He learned to never take any of his words to heart but Yuri meant enough to him that sometimes they got to him. Other times- on extremely rare moments- they riled a dormant anger that Victor’s suppressed deep within.

Now Victor looked at angry Yuri and relished in alive Yuri. Yuri must’ve not seen it that way as his eyes dropped and his voice grew remorseful.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I just-” he floundered for an explanation, his fight draining from him and leaving his cheeks pale.

Victor didn’t like pale. Pale reminded him of death and Yuri wasn’t allowed to look like death _ever_. It was also a testament to how exhausted he must’ve been that his anger faded so quickly. Normally he’d grow sulky and he’d insult Victor slightly less than normal as a means of an apology.

Victor thought back to Yuri’s seriousness as he pressed their heads together and promised to let Victor go find his strength, whatever that meant. He had an idea but didn’t have it in him to think of another person at the moment.

Victor held his arms out as an offering, and Yuri hesitated only a moment before closing the distance and sinking into them. It reminded Victor of whenever Yuri returned and immediately melted into his arms. Needy and childish and vulnerable and everything Yuri refused to allow himself to be.

“I’m sorry Vitya. I didn’t mean it like that,” Yuri apologized into his shirt and Victor squeezed his shoulders consolidating.

“I know Yura,” Victor promised in blonde hair, “Just for three days. You need to rest.”

Yuri pulled away so they were staring at each other once more. He still looked reluctant and it was obvious he wanted to argue.

He didn’t, green eyes already drooping back into sleep. Victor didn’t know much about healing, but he knew enough to know that exhaustion reflected the extent of the injury. All Yuri seems to do since coming back was sleep, and he figured it was much the same wherever the healer took him.

 _That’s two days_ , Victor’s brain informed him and the implication with the realization made his stomach sour.

Yuri almost died. Yuri _should_ be dead.

“Sleep. I’ll go call the coffee shop and take the day off,” Victor informed him, unwilling to leave Yuri alone just yet.

Yuri kicked his side, toes digging into soft flesh. Victor made a sound of protest, leaping to his feet and narrowing a glare at the youth. Except there was no heat or anger or anything worthy of a glare in it.

“We still need money stupid Victor. I’ll be fine,” Yuri growled at him and Victor replied by covering Yuri’s thin form back under the covers.

“Take it easy today,” Victor commanded, “I’ll see if Chris can check in on you.”

“Chris has a job too you idiot. Quit harassing people,” Yuri protested but the words lost their heat to a yawn and he looked like one of those kittens he adored so much.

Victor smiled affectionate and fond down at the youth. Yuri didn’t seem to notice, his breath already evening out as he slipped back into sleep. He made it look so easy, like slipping out a favorite sock. It would’ve concerned Victor if he didn’t know this was part of the healing process.

He found Yuuri in the kitchen. The younger man smiled thinly, offering him a bright red milkshake. Victor accepted it, sipping gingerly at the straw before he pulled away.

“How is he?” Yuuri asked almost instantly, and he seemed unsure what to do with his hands as they were fumbling around him awkwardly.

“He’s hungry and tired,” Victor informed him as he gazed down at the frothy top of his drink.

Yuuri must have realized what to do with his hands. He reached out tentatively, fingertips brushing softly against Victor’s skin. Something in Victor’s mind screamed at him that it was wrong and he needed to pull away but then he gazed into earnest brown eyes and he couldn’t remember _why_.

“He’s healing,” Yuuri reassured and the words brought everything Victor’s felt for the past two days as he released a heavy breath.

“I know,” Victor agreed and hated his next words, “I have to go to work. I’m going to call Chris on the way there and ask if he can check in on him. Are you-?”

Yuuri nodded, as solemn looking as Victor felt. It was good, Victor knew, giving Yuri some space but he was loathed to leave him alone so soon. The hope was that Yuri would spend the day sleeping- wouldn’t even notice the others’ absences.

Without knowing the true extent of the original injuries, however, it was impossible to know how long Yuri would spend sleeping and eating and doing nothing all day because Victor commanded it.

Victor didn’t want to worry Yuuri about that. Not when he was still trying to figure out where Yuuri stood with them.

So instead he gave him his brightest grin as he promised, “I’ll see you for lunch.”

Yuuri gave a shy smile in return, cheeks tinging a soft pink glow, as he swallowed and answered in that adorable manner of his, “I’m looking forward to it.”

The words jolted Victor’s stomach, warmth blossoming through his chest. He didn’t bother resisting the charmed smile from spreading across his face as he nodded, grabbed his phone and left to go to work.

{…}

Yuri woke hungry, but he was also warm so the conflict raged for a brief moment before he decided he could have both. Yanking the blue comforter from Victor’s bed, he wrapped it around thin shoulders before crawling out of bed and went to search for food. It wasn’t hard to find, Yuuri leaving a nice note about the various things he’s made for him.

Yuri decided on a banana nut milkshake that looked to be the freshest. It was good, and he was thankful of the other roommate for the second time since moving in- the first being after Yuri had awoken in Otabek’s room and he had conceal with the fact that Victor had to seek comfort from the Japanese man. Now drinking the milkshake he felt his stomach gurgle in agreement- happy and sweet- and he knew Victor was a man of many talents but cooking was not one.

Yuuri on the other hand…

 _You are my strength Victor, but I am not yours._ He’d said the words and it had came out uncharacteristic and weird but they were true. Victor needed someone that wasn’t him or he’d never get over whatever reserve he still held towards the world.

He needed Yuuri, who’s barely been in their lives and had already gotten Victor to do things Yuri never had a hope of doing. He’d be jealous but he was too tired and the milkshake awoken the urge to sleep once more.

_I’m tired of feeling sleepy all the damn time._

Makkachin was curled up on the couch and lifted his head whenever Yuri approached. Yuri flopped down onto the cushions, milkshake still in his hands. Makkachin stared back at him with knowing eyes before maneuvering his body so he laid protectively over Yuri’s feet.

“I bet you didn’t even notice I was missing,” Yuri accused and the dog snorted before nestling further into the croak of his legs causing Yuri to snort, “Thought so.”

The remote was on the other side of the couch, right next to Makkachin’s tail. He glared at it, willing it to himself. He wasn’t born a user, though, so the remote stayed where it was mockingly. Yuri huffed at it before turning his head in search of something to do.

He wasn’t lazy by nature, but he was warm and comfortable, and why mess with a good thing? Soon enough Makkachin’s snores were the only sound in the apartment. Yuri supposed he could follow the dog’s example but was thrumming with unused energy. He needed something to do.

Yuuri had taken his research on the diamonds and either hid or destroyed it. Why was anybody’s best guess and the fact Yuri had succumbed to a sleep he hadn’t even been aware of creeping on him was enough to make him apprehensive but he didn’t care enough to pursuit his suspicions. So he let the matter drop, didn’t even approach it to Victor.

_The idiot would probably freak out or something and then he’d never do anything productive with his life. Victor Nikiforov, always trying to save the world and never himself._

Yuri was just relieved Victor went to work at his actual job. Yuuri had too, but that had been a given. Only an idiot would pretend to care for Yuri after the way he’s treated him and the older male was conserved at best and clumsy at worst. He wasn’t an idiot. Unless he was drunk, apparently, the memory bringing a fond smile to Yuri’s features as he finished his milkshake.

“What do you think the odds are that Victor remembered to pack a lunch?” Yuri asked Makkachin after the silence grated on his nerves and he didn’t have food to distract him anymore.

Makkachin blinked up at him. The dog didn’t even look aggravated that Yuri kept waking him up. Loyal to a fault, man’s best friend. Everything Victor needed in his life.

“I think you’re right,” Yuri agreed as he climbed back off the couch in search of the landline.

Yuri had a phone before he came into Victor’s life, but the older man had long since replaced it for something newer and smarter and easier to track. That phone had been crushed, melted and succumbed to useless metal after the van exploded- not that Yuri was all that worried.

Victor would come home one day and realize Yuri’s phone hadn’t been as fortunate as he had, and then he’d immediately drag him off to get him a new one and as long as Yuri remembered his old number they could get one that shared it.

_And all my contacts and messages will be transferred to it, like magic._

He wasn’t going to be the one to broach that subject with Victor, though, as eager as he was to see if Otabek had reached out to him or to decide for certain if JJ and Isabella were alright. Not that he cared about them or anything. No, this was a conclusion Victor needed to make on his own as part of the healing process.

The phone was under the kitchen sink surrounded by cleaning supplies Yuri suspected Victor’s never touched in his life. He probably didn’t even know they had another phone. Beside it was a carefully crafted list of any number Yuri deemed important. School, Yakov’s cell and home and work, the front desk, and the newest at the very bottom being Victor’s work.

He dialed, rising to his feet and leaning against the countertop. Makkachin watched him from the couch, and Yuri figured he should walk the dog sometime today but then a stranger’s voice was rumbling from the other end and Yuri found his thoughts sidetracked once more.

“Is Victor there?” he asked furrowing his eyebrows and added in an irritated afterthought, “This is Yuri.”

“Yuri?” the unfamiliar voice breathed before they recovered, “Victor told us you were alright. Fortunate you were far enough from the blast that you weren’t injured.”

So Victor didn’t trust people after all. Not that Yuri was surprised, it made sense. It involved him and another user and the fact that he’d almost died. Victor wasn’t about to go parading that around to anyone with ears.

“Yeah. Fortunate,” Yuri swallowed back before he repeated, “Can I speak with Victor?”

“Uh. He’s on his lunch break which means he’s at the ice rink so he’s not really here at the moment. I can get him to call you back as soon as he returns though.”

Yuri’s brain had stopped working after _Victor_ and _ice rink_ were placed in a sentence together without the word _hate_ sitting between them. He shook his head, growling when he realized they couldn’t see him.

“No. I’m good,” Yuri informed curtly before anyone could question him on _that_ and hung up.

Victor was at the ice rink and it didn’t take a genius to figure out _why_. Just another thing Yuuri was capable of doing that Yuri wasn’t. His next decision hadn’t been a hard one to make.

“Come on Makkachin!” he called to the dog partially because he was wary of going outside by himself and partially because he knew Victor would disapprove slightly less if he left the apartment with Makkachin’s company, “I’m feeling up for a run.”

{…}

Victor had used to be all grace on the ice- captivating and beautiful. Something millions of people drive themselves crazy over trying to captivate it all on paper or canvas with meaningless words or empty colors. Wild and tamed and once you saw him move you found you couldn’t look at anything else. A human paradox. An angel without wings, providing the definition of _impossible_.

Yuri knew this, and he figured he knew why. A normal person never hoped to accept the ice as part of oneself no matter how hard they tried. They could come close- _have_ come close- but everything about Victor was different.

From his first movement it was clear the ice was him, and he was the ice.

Victor had given it up before Yuri entered his life, but Yuri knew Yakov and Yakov kept tapes. They were grainy and old but were some of the best things Yuri’s ever seen on a screen and that had been when Victor was still learning the ins and outs of a figure skater.

 _You could’ve been so many peoples role model_ , Yuri remembered thinking as he sat and stared until the end and he’d either start it over or try a new one, _you could’ve inspired so much._

It had also been one of the things that flashed through Yuri’s mind when one of his perverse classmates made a comment about his guardian. It had been one of the things that brought forth the red mist that ended in a kid’s wrist snapping like a twig under his own. The sound had almost been as satisfying as watching the tapes.

And against all odds Yuuri got him back on the ice, and Yuri was eager to see what he saw on the tapes in real life. He’d innocently asked Victor to take him once, mentioned how he learned to skate before he could walk. Reluctantly Victor had taken him to an old frozen pond but had stayed away from the ice like he was afraid of it- blue eyes wide and flighty and he’s never seen someone so eager to get away from something as Victor had of that pond. Yuri lost his appetite for skating after that.

Now he couldn’t get to the rink fast enough. Makkachin kept easy pace beside him even though Yuri hadn’t bothered with a leash and could run off any moment. Makkachin was better trained then that, too loyal and affectionate to suddenly take off and leave Yuri alone.

A good pet for Victor.

The rink wasn’t far from the apartment and his body was slower than normal but not by much. Yakov’s car was gone, signaling that he was out for lunch. Probably with Lilia, something about trying to be friends despite their divorce. Yuri thought that was stupid, but Victor called it sweet so Yuri figured they were doing it for him.

He hurried through the glass doors, didn’t spare the person working the desk a second glance. Makkachin followed him down the hall before finding the door to the rink and he burst inside expecting to see anything except Victor clutching the sides of a pale blue plastic walker obviously intended for a child.

Yuri blinked, coming up short, as he exclaimed loudly, “What the hell?”

Twin heads turned to him and Victor fumbled in shock, releasing the walker and crashing on his face in an otherwise comedic demonstration of no skill. The walker rolled off, Yuuri quick as he retrieved it.

Yuri watched Yuuri moved. He moved around the ice like one would an old friend- comfortable and knowing but there was a distinct difference between Yuuri and the ice. They weren’t one. They captivated but they didn’t entrance. Not when one watched and got the urge to watch Yuuri improve.

“Yuri!” Victor exclaimed, on his hands and knees and staring.

Makkachin barked at Yuri’s side, reminding the older man that the youth hadn’t come alone. Yuri ignored the dog, ignored Yuuri, as he took a step towards the rink and gaped at Victor like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

He looked uncomfortable, a stranger in a foreign land. He made being on the ice look impossible, and Yuri wanted nothing more than to rush out on it and strangle the older man.

“What the hell old man?” Yuri repeated because this wasn’t the Victor on the tapes; this wasn’t the Victor Yakov still got misty eyed over.

“Yuuri’s teaching me to ice skate,” Victor was quick to reply as Yuuri helped him back on his feet, hands taking his wrists and guiding them back to the walker.

“I don’t normally approve of teaching students this way but Victor’s balance on the ice is something you wouldn’t believe,” Yuuri explained and he didn’t sound exasperated or annoyed like a normal teacher would- he sounded almost _fond_.

Idiots, the both of them.

“Yura, what’re you doing here?” Victor inquired making his way over to him and he made a good show of leaning against the walker but his feet were suddenly too sure and precise to fool Yuri into thinking he needed one.

“I called your work to see if you remembered to pack a lunch. They told me you were here,” Yuri offered as an explanation, eyes drifting to Yuuri who hadn’t seemed to notice Victor’s sudden foot improvement- walker or no.

 _I wanted to see you skating_ , Yuri might have added but he wasn’t one to spoil secrets. Besides he didn’t think Yuuri would believe him.

Victor hummed, blue eyes hard in that way they got whenever Yuri was in trouble. He matched it, unrelenting. Victor’s smile never left his face though, and Yuri wondered if he realized how creepy his expression was when he did that.

“And you’re here because?” Victor challenged reaching the exit and didn’t even bother to put on his guards as he left the ice and moved towards him.

Yuri allowed his glare to grow annoyed and childish as he crossed his arms and huffed, “You have to eat Victor.”

Yuuri jumped to the man’s rescue. He probably didn’t even realize he had, brown eyes wide with concern as they stared at Yuri.

“We were just going to grab some lunch,” Yuuri offered, “You’re welcomed to join us.”

“Chris is probably sick with worry,” Victor said instead moving towards his pile of stuff, “He said he would check in on you during his lunch break.”

Yuri did feel guilty for that but the moment he allowed Victor to see it the man would be another blabbering mess because _what happened to Yuri wasn’t his fault and he shouldn’t blame himself._

So he hardened his stare, allowed the disappointment of Victor pretending he couldn’t skate so he could… something to fuel his expression as he reminded with a voice that was all sharp edges and pointed ends, “I told you to not harass other people while they’re working Victor.”

Victor had retrieved his phone, already typing a message for Chris as he made his way over to him. Normal people, those unfamiliar with the ice, would’ve shown equal discomfort with skates on land. Victor moved as he would not wearing any shoes- surefooted and graceful. Yuri gave Yuuri a sideways glance to see if he noticed.

He had, eyes dark with thought as he stared down at Victor’s feet and the older man’s proved to not be as oblivious as Victor. He’d be able to fit the pieces together. He’d _know_.

Without thinking Yuri moved forward, making a show to catch a not falling Victor and eased his arm against Victor’s chest. Victor gave him an incredulous look, but Yuri didn’t give him a chance to ask him anything of it.

_I’m keeping all your damned secrets old man._

He looked to Yuuri and said as normally as he would if Victor didn’t know how to skate and required assistance and any opportunity away from the ice as possible, “Lunch sounds great. Victor could use a break.”

And because Yuri’s known Victor longer than Yuuri has, Yuuri bought it. If it had been anyone else, Yuri knew, Yuuri would’ve figured out Victor was lying about something and then it would only be a moment of time before he found out what but it had been Yuri so Yuuri bought it with an accepting smile and slight nod.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself. I’m starving.”


	12. Everybody Needs A Lois Lane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor and Yuri officially met Phichit, and Sara grows impatient.

The café was a quaint little building on the corner one street over from the ice rink. Obviously Yuuri frequented it often as the waitress asked if she could get his usual, blushing like a maiden on her wedding night. Yuri rolled his eyes, wondering if Yuuri realized the looks he drew or if he had another Victor. From the way Yuuri responded Yuri figured that no, he did not.

_Leave it to one oblivious idiot to find another oblivious idiot._

She grinned at Victor in turn as he ordered, and Yuri supposed it wasn’t everyday she got to serve two most attractive men she’s ever set her eyes upon. Then again if she worked regular hours and this was it then she would get a chance to serve them every day because, apparently, they came here daily.

“And here I thought you were starving yourselves,” Yuri scoffed and the waitress frowned down at him, a stranger to a prudent child.

Victor just laughed- carefree and fond- and even Yuuri smiled shyly. Makkachin lifted his head from his spot at Victor’s feet before settling it back against the ground as the lazy dog took the opportunity to take a nap. They had to ask for a table outside for the dog, but it was well shaded by a red and white striped overhanging so it wasn’t so bad.

The waitress’s frown deepened. Yuri realized outsiders didn’t think highly of him, thought he was a brat. Something to do with his natural ill-mannered attitude no doubt. Victor’s proven he cares for him, though, and that’s all he’s ever really cared about. Fortunately for the waitress, Victor hadn’t noticed.

She left with a huff and stomp of her red heel. _That_ Victor noticed and he gave her back a concerned look. Yuri hid his smirk behind his hand, which he suspected Yuuri caught if his disapproving glance was anything to go by. He was smart enough to not say anything to him about it though so Yuri let the matter drop.

_Apparently we’re all keeping all sorts of secrets for each other._

“I hope you two don’t mind, but I texted Phichit to come join us,” was what Yuuri said, drawing their attention.

Yuri frowned. He didn’t know a Phichit, didn’t know Yuuri well enough to trust people because they know him.

Victor just grinned his signature dazzling grin- all diamonds and sunshine and it was like everything good in the world was in that look. Yuri narrowed his eyes at Yuuri, gauging his reaction. Technically Yuri’s already given both males his blessing, though he suspected neither realized that he had. That didn’t mean he was going to back off either. He meant what he said earlier. Victor was everything good in his life.

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine Yuuri,” Victor reassured, smile never wavering and it made his voice bright.

Yuuri’s face turned shy and bashful as a smile of his own edged at the corners of his mouth. Yuri watched it all critically. It was easy because they weren’t paying any attention to him.

_Total dorks._

The waitress returned with their drinks, and Yuri was grateful. His throat was feeling dry, and it was making his skin hot. He was sucking air before the waitress left, which earned him a glare from her and twin looks of concern from Victor and Yuuri.

“Yura?” Victor asked, the earlier warmth gone with his smile.

_Great. Way to go Yuri. Way to go._

“Um,” Yuri murmured sheepish before stirring idly at his ice with his straw hating the weight of their gazes, “Can I have a refill?”

_Normal. Victor deserves normal._

The waitress’s smile was thin and forced as she snatched the cup from him and agreed acidly, “Sure sweetie.”

That time Victor did notice. He frowned- eyes all ice and Russian winters now- and Yuri had to actually kick his shin under the table to get him to stop glaring. Blue eyes found him instantly, and Yuri shrugged innocently.

“You should eat something else as well,” Yuuri decided before ordering him an appetizer.

Yuri’s stomach growled in betrayal, and Yuri hugged his middle as he snapped peevishly, “I thought we were here for lunch.”

Victor flicked his ear.

It didn’t hurt but it got him back Yuri’s attention and Victor chided deceptively sweet, “You shouldn’t be so mouthy Yuri.”

 _Children are meant to be seen and not heard_ , the waitress’s eyes seemed to say before moving away. Yuri was thankful Victor missed that look. He knew Yuuri hadn’t, but Yuuri’s eyes were fixated back on Victor. Apparently in the twenty seven hours Yuri had been missing Yuuri came to appreciate just how overprotective Victor could become.

 _Distraction_ , Yuri’s brain practically screamed at him, _Victor needs a distraction._

“Grandpa once told me that if I glared too much my face could get stuck that way,” Yuri said reaching out to snag Victor’s drink and he sucked that one down twice as fast as his first.

Since when did he get so thirsty? His throat still screeched at him for relief, knives clawing at the soft flesh. Yuri plucked an ice cube from the empty glass and sucked on it between his teeth. His skin was still burning despite the chilly temperatures and he wanted nothing more than to start stripping his outer clothes.

Victor’s smile that time was timid and gentle- prodding and searching- as he inquired worriedly, “Are you feeling alright Yura?”

“I’m fine,” Yuri reassured between the ice cube, “Just thirsty. And hungry. And tired.”

As if to prove his point he yawned. Victor’s eyes sparkled with his concern now, deep and pressing and so needy all of a sudden. He reached out, fingers brushing against the soft skin of Yuri’s hand. Yuri didn’t pull away as he fished out another chunk of ice.

“You should be in the apartment healing,” Yuuri chided, and Victor hummed his agreement.

“I needed the exercise,” Yuri brushed off with a shrug, “and I already told you I was afraid Victor forgot to pack a lunch.”

“You should focus your concern on yourself,” Victor advised, sounding as ancient and as tired as Yuri felt.

Yuri shrugged the concern off as he deflated, “I thought some fresh air would do me so good.”

Victor frowned at him but then the waitress returned with Yuri’s refill and he accepted it gratefully. She laid the appetizer on the table in front of Yuuri, but he was quick to push it towards him. Yuri frowned but said nothing. He wasn’t one to argue over free food.

“Do you think you know what you want?” the waitress asked and she was back to being sweet, probably realized Victor had seen her looks and was smart enough to know she needed to do some sort of damage control.

Victor ordered for him because he was already stuffing his face between gulps of water, and it was the first time he realized sprinting across Russia while he was still healing was a bad idea. Some good must have come from it, though, if Victor’s next question was any indication.

“Why didn’t you just call me? You have my number in your phone,” Victor reminded and Yuri blinked at him not even bothering to detach himself from the straw.

He could see the lightbulb go off inside Victor’s head. Blue eyes widened and Victor may not realize but he’s always been an expressive person. Not quite an open book, as he’s proven capable of keeping secrets from people who weren’t Yuri, but his face just seemed to emote naturally.

A good thing. It gave him a trustworthy appearance. It was also one of those things Yuri dreamed of seeing on the ice. The videos Yakov has grimy at best, and Victor’s expressions impossible to make out. Even still the videos had been hypnotic.

Now it gave Yuri the reassurance that he was getting a phone soon, and a bubble of excitement started in his stomach. He tried to be patient, didn’t want to push Victor while his common sense teetered so delicately on the edge of idiocy and normal.

Yuri really wanted a new phone though, eager to see rather or not Otabek texted him.

“I took Friday off. I’ll go get you a new one then,” Victor promised him and Yuri took care to keep the disappointment off his face.

He could wait. For Victor he could wait.

“Ah. There’s Phichit,” Yuuri interrupted before Victor could analyze his reaction too hard and Yuri took the opportunity to turn to see the other male Yuuri was waving at.

He was surprised to see the baby-faced dark skinned young man who waved back. He was short and obviously not Japanese but the shocking part came when Yuri realized he’s seen this man twice now- one of those being at the gala.

“You’re a reporter,” was the first thing out of his mouth as Yuuri’s friend took the seat across from him, and Phichit blinked like he wasn’t expecting to be recognized so quickly.

“Yeah,” Phichit agreed with an easy smile, “though I don’t usually get recognized so quickly.”

Yuri’s stomach did a sour flip. He’d read through Phichit’s articles when he’d started researching the lost diamonds. Yuri was quick to learn that Phichit didn’t have many articles available to the public despite having an easy writing style and refreshingly new views.

Yuuri and Victor were staring at him like it was the first time they’ve seen him. He knew he needed to say something, but the last time he mentioned the diamonds it proved to strike one of Yuuri’s buttons. Now they were in public with Victor several feet away, and Yuri knew he needed to tread on the side of caution.

“Your articles are some of the few that doesn’t make me want to punch someone in the face,” Yuri shrugged deciding to go with the vague truth.

Phichit’s face twisted into something large and excited, like he wasn’t used to compliments. Yuri wasn’t surprised. People who wrote like Phichit paired with the small abundance he did had someone standing over his shoulder hindering him every chance they got.

Victor whistled as he praised, “Coming from young Yurio that is quite some praise indeed.”

Yuri kicked him in the shin and glared. Victor’s innocent smile informed him he was punishing him for worrying him as much as he had the past couple of days. Yuri supposed it was fair but that _name_. He’d already told him once he hated it, which he knew was why Victor was using it now.

Phichit just smiled, bright and pulsing like the sun. Yuri almost felt bad for the guy, except he didn’t really know him.

“I’m flattered,” Phichit replied and Yuuri was watching his friend’s hands like a weirdo but Yuri opted not to point that out as he went back to sucking down all the restaurant’s water.

Victor took over most of the conversation after that, and the brunt of it was directed towards Yuuri and Phichit. Yuri allowed him taking to watching Phichit, and soon he realized why Yuuri had been staring at the other male’s hands.

Phichit had a nervous habit of playing with his hands. It hadn’t been obvious at first because they had been still and calm before they progressed into a continuous fumbling and twisting of fingers and tanned skin. A curious observation but not one he got to analyze for very long as their food came and Yuuri was splitting his with his friend.

The conversation shifted and Yuri found he had to talk more about himself. Victor was careful to keep it limited, though, and Yuri was grateful. Even after eating he didn’t have much energy and he was hoping for lunch to be over so he could go back to sleep.

Phichit was the first to notice him fading, curious enough.

“I’m sorry to cut this short but I’ve got to run,” Phichit announced taking out money for the meal before he glanced pointedly at him and asked, “Would you like me to walk you home Yurio?”

Yuri glared but was too tired to be snippety. Victor, who’d taken the last couple of minutes to stare at Yuuri, blinked as his head swiveled towards him when he didn’t immediately lash out. Yuri shrugged, rising to his feet. Victor rose with him, Yuuri and Victor’s ridiculous crush forgotten.

“I’ll be fine Vitya,” Yuri reassured as he rolled his eyes and Phichit’s warm hand settled on his shoulder, Yuri didn’t have to look to know he was smiling.

It rolled off the young male, lingering in his voice and warping his words into sweet and warm and welcoming things. A good thing because Victor would’ve never backed off otherwise.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Phichit promised and Yuri’s eyes went to Yuuri, squinting searchingly though he didn’t know what he was looking for.

Victor stared a long moment, blue eyes bright in thought. He was frowning and cautious and he was obviously skeptical. Yuri couldn’t blame the guy, knowing that if the roles were reversed he’d follow Victor around like an angry puppy- all biting words and concerned swats.

Yuri tapped the tip of his shoe towards Victor as he grumbled, “I’m fine. You should really get back to work.”

Victor reached out and drew him in a tight hug. Yuri felt his muscles enclose around him snug and protective and reluctant to let him go. Yuri didn’t push him away, he didn’t scream or complain or call him names because this was something Victor needed.

_Note to self: don’t come back from the dead any more for Victor’s sake. Or my sanity._

“Keep him safe,” Yuuri commanded Phichit behind them, voice soft and warning and Victor’s face had turned into that stupid love stricken expression Yuri’s been subjected to since receiving news of their new roommate.

It wasn’t until later, curled under a million blankets on the couch with Phichit and Makkachin curled up on the chair, that Yuri realized he’d been watching Yuuri’s hands. They’d remained to themselves and Yuri internally frowned at himself.

Yuuri had his secrets, and Yuri figured if he was suspicious enough he could come to his own conclusions but that wasn’t fair for anyone. Not when they all lived in a suspicious world that never asked the right questions and was always seeking out scapegoats and martyrs.

 _As long as he doesn’t hurt Victor I don’t care_ , Yuri reminded himself and it was the last thing he remembered before dropping to sleep.

{…}

Sara was waiting for him on the ice.

Yuuri dropped his bag on the floor by the rink as he stopped to watch her glide effortlessly over the surface. She spun and twisted and leapt, limber as a minx and as energetic as a puppy yet she remained in control of every movement and every gesture.

She didn’t immediately acknowledge him, but he knew she saw him the moment he stepped through the doors. Yuuri wasn’t eager to interrupt her for a conversation either. Whatever she had to say he knew he wouldn’t like.

She finished with a bow directed towards him, purple eyes burning under the overhead lights. Yuuri propped his elbows against the barrier, bending over it casually. Sara didn’t scare him as much as what she came to say.

She straightened back up, eyes glowing. _Predator’s eyes_ , Yuuri observed not for the first time, _dangerous things._

“I might just have to charge you for your time on the ice,” Yuuri spoke first, well aware of how their game was played.

Her mouth smiled but her eyes didn’t. It wasn’t that she wasn’t amused, it was that she wasn’t allowed to.

“You’re a funny man Katsuki Yuuri. I finally see what Celestino saw in you all those years ago,” she informed him dryly, as stoic as ever.

Yuuri’s eyes darkened at the mention of the older man’s name as he replied humorlessly, “We both know what he saw in me that day and it had nothing to do with my sense of humor.”

“Sure,” Sara agreed with a tip of her head, thick dark locks falling over her shoulders as purple eyes remained to regard him curiously, “He could use a good laugh, though. I’m afraid his face has permeantly set into... you know.”

She made a sour expression, gesturing towards it with her hands. It was a good impression, and it sent something frightening down his spine at the reminder of how often Sara remained at his side. It wasn’t the first time Yuuri felt sorry for her over it.

She wouldn’t hear anything about it so Yuuri nodded and agreed, “Yeah. I know.”

Sara skated over to where he stood, closing the distance with graceful strokes. She was beautiful, seductive and dangerous and every move she made was clearly intentional and controlled. He’s known her too long to see her anything more than an acquaintance though and even before that he knew she wasn’t his type.

That’s never stopped her from constantly reminding how attractive she was. She stopped right in front of him, pressing her face so close to his that he could feel her breath ghosting over pale features. Neither one moved, staring into what could stretch to an endless game of chicken.

“I like you better like this,” she noted finally, moving away.

Yuuri said nothing. It was better if he didn’t, better to let her speak and threaten and leave. Their own little game, perfected over the years.

Purple eyes remained on him as she continued slowly, deliberately, “Domestic. Enamored. It’s _adorable_ and uncalled for.”

Yuuri tensed at the unspoken threat towards Victor and Yuri, who have each accepted him in their own special way. Even Yuri who spat poisonous words and insults every chance he got but had taken care of him when he’d been hungover.

Yuuri’s first instinct was protective fury and because it was Sara in front of him he ground out, “We both know they have nothing to do with this.”

She snorted, glancing away as she warned, “You should be careful. Caring for strangers is dangerous. Lethal, even.”

“Who says I care?” Yuuri challenged, “Victor still has a use, and _he_ cares for Yuri. Therefore both of them have nothing to do with you or Celestino’s vendetta, but if you hurt either one it’ll be impossible to complete the tasks you need me to.”

Purple eyes found him once more as she regarded him with a long steady look. Yuuri didn’t shy away. Sara didn’t frighten him. She was as much a puppet, dangling amongst strings dancing so prettily for their master, as he was.

“You regard yourself highly in the eyes of other men it seems,” she finally said, voice feathery soft and warning him of a million different things.

“I would never presume too much of myself, so if you think anything I’ve said thus far is untrue feel free to tell me,” Yuuri replied and tilted his head to the side to await the comment he knew wasn’t coming.

She blinked and continued to stare yet she said nothing. They stayed like that for a brief moment before Sara changed conversations.

“Celestino informs me that you’ve been withholding information from his favorite pet,” Sara informed him.

Yuuri forced a laugh- condescending and humorless- as he said, “Here I thought you were his favorite pet. Shows me for assuming too much.”

“Celestino cares not with what you think,” Sara snapped annoyed, “He only cares of what you know and not tell.”

“Perhaps Celestino is the one who presumes too much. I know nothing he doesn’t,” Yuuri reassured calmly, serious and cold and he didn’t have to look at her to know she thought he was lying.

He was, technically, lying but not about what she thought.

“He needs the name of this healer,” Sara told him stoically, “and he needs it by the end of the week.”

Yuuri’s eyebrow rose as he enquired, “You think _I_ know it?”

She stared, purple eyes sparkling, as she responded honestly, “No, but it’s like you said. It doesn’t matter what we think.”

Yuuri’s fingers gripped the barrier as he replied, “I don’t recall ever saying that.”

“You have a week,” she warned seriously skating towards the exit, “or you won’t like what happens next.”

Yuuri huffed out a frustrated sigh, shoulders slumping. At least his hitchhiker was absent whenever Sara visited.

“What am I supposed to do in three days?” Yuuri challenged.

She turned to look at him, twisting her legs to unlace her skates and dropping them by his bag. Her eyes were no longer shining. They were dark and sad and old.

“Victor’s child saw the healer’s face, and we all know you can be convincing when you want,” before walking away.

Yuuri didn’t bother stopping her. There wasn’t any point.

{…}

Yuri was asleep when Victor returned.

He was curled up on the couch, covers wrapped around slim shoulders like a burrito. Makkachin was sprawled on top of his legs, snoring softly. Neither woke when Victor entered nor when he made his way to them so he could card his fingers through soft blonde hair.

Yuri made a soft sound from the back of his throat, cheeks back to being their normal pale color. It made Victor uncomfortable but he pushed those feelings down as he threaded long fingers through soft hair.

“I missed you,” Victor admitted.

Makkachin snorted and he glanced over to see large dark eyes watching him. Victor released Yuri’s hair and reached out to stroke brown fur. Makkachin gave a soft of groan of approval.

“I know you missed him too,” Victor agreed in a low voice.

His phone vibrated on the table beside him. He growled at it, but when he looked down at it he felt ice return to his veins.

 _Masked Phantom_.

Victor glanced down at the peaceful expression on Yuri’s face. He’d be pissed if he woke up in the morning on the couch, not to mention sore. Bending over he gathered the kid into his arms, taking care to cradle the back of his neck and head. Yuri made a soft sound in the back of his throat.

He was light, all bone and skin and he’s always been skinny but this was different. Even from underneath the thick comforter that had been ripped from the top of Victor’s bed Victor could feel the pointed edges of bone underneath his hands. Victor made a mental note to take Yuri out for food more, and he wondered how long it’s been since they gorged on fried bread and high calorie sweets.

“Tomorrow,” he promised the youth as he laid him onto of his bed before he moved to his closet, slipping on his costume before he remembered he had to work tomorrow because he’d told the others Yuri hadn’t even been touched by the blast and he corrected, “Soon.”

It felt wrong. Leaving Yuri while he looked so vulnerable felt wrong, but this was something he needed to do. To keep Yuri safe and to make sure something like this didn’t happen again he needed to leave.

“I promise,” Victor breathed one last time though he wasn’t sure what he was promising.

He snuck out the fire escape by his window and made his way towards the jewelry store. Black spandex and dark hair waited for him, crown that cost more than Lilia’s entire apartment complex and Yakov’s skating rink combined propped amongst the dark strands.

The Masked Phantom was waiting for him, brown eyes bright with amusement and something else. Apprehension, maybe. Fear of something, though Victor doubted it was him.

“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” the Masked Phantom mocked as he scooped up several rings from behind their glass case and considered them with a critical eye, “You sure like to take your sweet time.”

Victor ignored him, stepping towards the villain. It was strange. He didn’t look like he was enjoying it as much as last time. Like something had changed. Victor had a good guess on what that might’ve been.

“Were you the cause of the explosion several days ago?” Victor demanded, voice tight with the anger that still hadn’t faded since Yuri’s disappearance.

Dark eyes considered him for a long moment before he tilted his head to the side and replied honestly, “No.”

Victor’s anger cooled some at the reassurance.

“So what then?” Victor demanded instead, “You’re just a petty thief then?”

The smile- sharp edges and mischievous- stretched across the handsome face as the Masked Phantom replied snidely, “I do enjoy shiny things so very much but, unfortunately, this is not one of those times. We need to talk.”

“There’s nothing for us to talk about,” Victor snapped, not in the mood.

He’d left a healing teenager alone back at their apartment, and though chances were Yuuri had made it back Victor couldn’t be certain. He hadn’t had time to check. He couldn’t risk Yuuri finding out either, which only made wrapping this up quickly all the more prudent.

“Aw. Don’t be like that Ice King,” the Masked Phantom chided but his face had taken on a dull expression as he added, “There’s a new healer in town. I need to know where he lives.”

Victor’s frown deepened as he demanded, “Why would I know that?”

The Masked Phantom shrugged, “I figured you’d keep a close watch on everyone who comes into your city. Users, I mean. The dangers of society.”

“As long as they don’t steal anything or hurt anybody, users are free to live their lives as they so please,” Victor responded, another step forward.

Caramel eyes flickered to Victor’s feet but he made no move to back away or warn Victor from approaching. He suddenly looked ancient, somehow, and so very tired. Victor swallowed thickly, trying to keep images of strange women approaching him in rundown factories warning him of higher powers.

The Masked Phantom was clearly not one of those higher powers.

Besides it was the only plan he had.

“I know you’re not one of those users,” Victor continued, “One of those bad ones, I mean. I know there’s something else going on here. I’m not an idiot, and I know you don’t really care who this new user is. Someone else does, though, and they entrusted that challenge to you.”

Fingers fumbled with more of the diamonds but he made no move to pick them up. His face was blank. Flat. That was when Victor knew he was just another pawn in a game Victor wasn’t sure they were playing.

Finally the Masked Phantom spoke.

“You know nothing little princess,” he promised, eyes finding his once more, “and that’s going to prove your greatest downfall.”

Without warning the villain lurched forward. Victor expected the attack, reaching out to grasp the man’s arm and twirling with the movement. He kicked the back of his leather clad knee and watched the villain collapse to his knees.

“You don’t have to tell me anything about that. I know I’m right. I’m not a fool,” Victor said, “Just tell me where the stolen diamonds are.”

Muscles tensed under Victor’s hold before the body went lax and he mumbled, “No.”

Heat swelled inside the hand Victor was using to grasp onto the villain, and he realized what it was instantly. He let go, stepping back.

How does one fight what they cannot touch?

“Crazy, right?” the villain growled at him, “Empathy. How underrated.”

“I know you’re not evil,” Victor tried because- somewhere inside him, somehow- he believed it and he didn’t have time fighting every person dressed in their Halloween costume.

That caught the Masked Phantom momentarily off-guard. His eyes shone with uncertainty and it was all Victor needed. He lunged forward, tackling the body to the floor. The crown toppled off his head, and the villain glowered.

“That’s where you’re wrong princess,” the Masked Phantom snarled, somehow getting his knee between them and kicking Victor off, “I’m your enemy. You’re _archnemesis_.”

Victor reached out with his ice, patterned fawns closing the distance between them as they reached out for the villain. The Masked Phantom backed away, brown eyes remaining on blue ones.

“Until next time,” he declared before rushing out into the night.

Victor’s shoulders slumped, ice retreating back into him as he sat back on his heels. He studied the darkness outside, white specks tumbling lazily down from the sky. If he focused he could almost make out the emotion the villain wore underneath his mask when Victor claimed he wasn’t evil.

Fear.

He’d been scared.

“Archnemesis huh?” Victor asked the darkness as he climbed back to his feet, “Do people even have those?”

Apparently he did.

Yuri was going to love this.


	13. Dreams are Proof of What We've Survived

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuri's healing takes an unexpected turn, and Victor can heal like a champ.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter took a dark turn as Yuri's backstory comes to a closing. I'd apologize, but I knew it was coming to this. Like always, hope you enjoy and tell me what you're thinking of the story thus far. It's only going downhill from here.

Yuri did not love it.

In the morning- once Victor managed to refrain from clinging to the kid- he told him everything. Yuri didn’t laugh, he didn’t smile, and he certainly didn’t beam up at him like the child he was. He just glared. It felt like he always glared nowadays.

“He’s looking for the healer?” Yuri demanded, legs folded underneath him as he pressed into Victor’s space suddenly needy and demanding and so very angry.

Victor realized then, like the fool Yuri claimed him to be, that Yuri did know the healer’s name. He’s seen his face, probably went to wherever the healer was currently holed up. Yuri knew, and he cared and that wasn’t something Victor could fault him for. Victor didn’t know and cared just because they’d saved Yuri’s life.

So Victor reached out and grasped the youth on the shoulder. It was narrow and bony, fragile like a bird’s wing, and because Yuri didn’t shove him away or kick him in the face Victor took that as permission to pull him to his chest.

“It’ll be okay,” Victor reassured as Yuri curled into the dip of his body, “I won’t let anyone hurt the healer. I owe them that and more.”

Yuri pulled away- green eyes two specks of Greek fire- as he chided, “Don’t be stupid. You can’t save everyone, and you haven’t even met the healer.”

When did Victor allow them to grow so out of control? When did he allow a fifteen-year-old child to grow up so quickly?

Victor squeezed Yuri’s shoulder, staring into his eyes, and whispered, “I don’t have to. He returned you back to me, and that’s enough.”

Yuri flushed, a child once more. He glanced away, shifting uncomfortably underneath Victor’s hands. He wasn’t used to emotions, Victor knew, but that was fine. Victor could emote enough for the both of them.

“I could never met them a single day in my life and I’ll still owe them everything,” Victor pressed and Yuri rolled his eyes, reaching out to thump his forehead.

“You’re such a dork Vitya,” Yuri informed him affectionately and he beamed from underneath Victor’s hands before his nose twitched and he added with a dip of his head and an expression that spelled trouble, “You have an archnemesis now? That’s a thing?”

Victor grinned a toothy carefree smile as he hummed, “I guess. That’s what he called us, anyways. After I told him I didn’t think he was really a bad person.”

“Only you could insult a villain by complimenting him,” Yuri said dryly but his lips were twitching upwards in the direction of a smile and green eyes were sparkling.

A child’s expression. Sweet and mischievous and everything Yuri tried to prove he wasn’t. It was enough to make Victor wish he could’ve gotten off work. Leo was adamant though, nothing had happened to Yuri and he was fine so Victor got Friday and nothing sooner.

Leo must not have any children. He must have never had a child who just had their world upended tossed into his own fracturing life and expected for everyone to leave as better people. Victor couldn’t say he was envious of that. Yuri was worth everything he’s forced Victor through, and he didn’t doubt for a second that he was a better man for it.

Victor pushed thoughts of Leo from his mind as he lightly poked Yuri in the side and commanded with an authority he rarely carried, “You’re to stay here today. No running around. No spur visits to either me or Yuuri. Chris is going to stop by and check on you for lunch and you are to be here today.”

Yuri nodded, obedient. He must’ve still been feeling the effects of healing because he was never obedient- not even when Victor was the voice of reason, which was more often than Yuri would ever admit out loud, Victor knew.

“Good,” Victor approved climbing from the bed, “I’ll see you tonight. We’ll get you a new phone tomorrow. I promise.”

This time Yuri’s smile was soft and shy, like he wasn’t used to smiling, as he reassured, “I know Victor. Now go. Shoo. You’re going to be late for work.”

Victor scoffed, rolled his eyes and pouted, “Work is overrated. I’d much rather stay in all day. Maybe go get some more of those lessons. Yuuri is an excellent teacher even if I’m a rather poor student.”

Yuri flicked his forehead but even he couldn’t keep his scowl from a teasing smile. His eyes were alit with mirth and a mischievousness he rarely allowed himself to show. It made Victor’s heart flutter, light and happy and so very relieved.

“You’re an idiot,” Yuri repeated, always with the calling him an idiot; Victor never really minded, not when he knew he deserved every moment.

Victor rubbed at his forehead as blue eyes regarded Yuri in thought for a long moment before he declared, “Yakov showed you the tapes.”

Yuri shrugged, going for indifferent. Victor knew better. Saw better. Yuri’s seen the tapes and now he wanted to see Victor in real life. He was the only person Victor ever thought he’d consider returning for. Yuri only had to ask…

Yuri made like he was curling under the covers, but it was that same thing he would do when he’d been ten and just witnessed his parents’ murder. He was hunching in on himself, making himself smaller like that could somehow make him invisible. Victor hadn’t cared then. Now it broke his heart.

“You should get to work,” Yuri murmured before Victor could say anything and then added, “I think I’m going back to bed. Healing sucks.”

Victor gave him a soft smile, bending over so he could bury a kiss on top of Yuri’s head. He lingered, forehead pressed amongst the blonde locks. Yuri didn’t shove him away, a testimony to how bad his week has been.

“If healing is what it took for you to return to me then I don’t care,” Victor admitted before reluctantly pulling away and offering Yuri his brightest smile as he chimed, “Get some sleep. Your body just needs rest. It’ll pass.”

Victor wasn’t wrong.

It did eventually pass, and what came in its wake was so much worst.

{…}

Yuuri called in late. Yakov didn’t ask any questions. Victor told him what had happened to Yuri, and Yakov loved the kid as much as he loved Victor- which was a lot even if he’ll never say so out loud.

He met Phichit in a coffee shop Victor didn’t work at. Phichit had already bought him his favorite, handing it to him in a white cup, before they settled in a corner booth. Almost immediately Phichit drew out his colored pens so he could fiddle with them- something he hadn’t done during lunch with Yuri and Victor. His hands had been still when Yuri had spoken to him.

Yuuri hated how it made him feel jealous. Yuri was the last person Yuuri ever expected for Phichit to fill completely comfortable with- the only time Yuuri’s ever managed it was when he was using his powers on him.

Phichit noticed his staring. He squinted his eyes and crinkled his nose in that thoughtful expression of his. Yuuri could see the wheels turning behind dark eyes.

“What?” he asked, easy smile on his face and it wasn’t the first time Yuuri realized how quickly his affection came for the younger male.

“You just didn’t do that for lunch yesterday,” Yuuri told him because it never did him any good to lie to Phichit in the past, “Your hands hadn’t moved while Yuri spoke to you.”

Phichit’s smile was filled with a fond warmth Yuri had earned and Yuuri envied. It was weird being jealous over his friend- made him feel possessive and after the week Yuri’s had he knew it was wrong to try to discredit him of anything.

“I like your roommates,” Phichit explained with a shrug before he face melted back into one brimming with soft affection.

 _Yuri’s sharing Victor. I could learn to share as well_ , Yuuri thought to himself as he worried at his bottom lip.

They’re just tools, a means to get to the end easier. The words were on the tip of Yuuri’s tongue, right there and yet-

“Yeah,” Yuuri admitted, “I like them too.”

Phichit smiled back at him from the other side of the table. It was bright and kind and everything Yuuri knew he didn’t deserve. Villains didn’t get best friends nor roommates who would welcome them so fully into their lives. Or a superhero enemy that claimed saw the good in him.

“That’s good,” Phichit chimed warmly, “They’re good people. You did good Yuuri.”

Yuuri’s smile was strained and unsure. He thought of Sara, and he thought of the day Yuri disappeared. He thought of Victor, and he thought of what he knew was going to happen to them just because they had incorporated themselves into Yuuri’s life.

He spun the coffee cup in small circles on the table as he thought of threats- old and new- and of his conversation with St. Petersburg’s resident hero.

_I know you’re not evil._

It was funny. Yuuri swore he heard Victor’s voice in the words.

{…}

When Yuri woke up, it was dark outside.

He didn’t notice that until later, too busy launching himself from the bed and onto the floor. Sheets tangled around his legs. He went down, and he went down _hard_. He choked on a scream, images of heat and pain and white and _oh god he was dying_ flashed through his mind, where they rattled and stuck and burned.

His heart hammered, banging around inside his chest as if trying to escape. The healing must be fading. It was the only reasonable explanation. Unfortunately, Yuri wasn’t in the best of mind to stop and be reasonable. Not when he could see it all in that pricy high definition quality Victor had never been able to afford.

He’d been angry, though it seemed silly now. He didn’t make friends easily, and he knew it had nothing to do with other people. Not when he pushed and kicked and clawed at anyone who’s ever tried, and if he was honest with himself he knew that’s what he’d been angry at.

JJ and Isabella had been different from moment one, or at least JJ had and Isabella was in love with him so she was a constant presence in his life. No matter what Yuri did or said JJ persisted. He smiled and would ruffle his hair and speak to him like a person and more than anything Yuri wanted him to _hurt_.

So he’d brought up JJ’s parents.

JJ never talked about them. He talked about many things but never them. Yuri knew what that meant, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew, and he’d brought it up anyways because he’d been annoyed and it worked. They got angry with him.

Then he was stomping away, and the world went white.

Yuri remembered flying for the briefest of moments. Then he collided with the earth, fire crawling over his skin. He couldn’t scream. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t move. He was dying, and he knew it all because he’d been petty and insensitive and _he didn’t want to die_.

He could hear JJ and Isabella, and he longed to reach out and apologize. He felt vulnerable and scared and he wasn’t fifteen anymore. He was ten, hiding under his bed because his mom had told him too. She also had reassured him, promised everything would be okay if he remained quiet.

He did, but it wasn’t.

His door had exploded in a burst of shards and black boots stomped into his room. Downstairs he could hear his dad screaming, his mom sobbing and Yuri bit the back of his hand to keep from giving his spot away. It didn’t matter. The first place the men looked was under the bed.

They drug him out kicking and screaming, earning a sharp slap for his efforts as they carried him into the living room.

“Lively little thing,” the one carrying him commented as he had to readjust his hold to keep Yuri from breaking free.

“Don’t hurt him,” his mom begged, tears lacing her voice and the men responded by slapping him again.

“You bastards,” his dad growled, angry and violent as his eyes burned and if only looks could kill, “I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you all for touching him. I swear it.”

The men laughed, though Yuri couldn’t see what was funny. The one holding him tossed him towards where his parents sat. His mom was the one to catch him, though his dad had moved from the couch as well.

One of the men caught his dad by the arm, and the scream he made as he burned from the inside out forever scarred itself into Yuri’s brain.

Now he knew how his father must have felt, but then there was a face and a voice and he hadn’t realized he’d started to fade until hands pulled him back. It felt like he was tethered on one end of a rope, and someone grabbed the other side and _jerked_.

He gasped, eyes opening to see a blurry figure above him. It was a face, he knew, but he couldn’t make out any of the features. Hands gripped his shoulders and shook him with a violence he knew shouldn’t be given to a dying man.

“Yuri!” a voice echoed, desperate, before repeating in a strangled gasp, “ _Yuri!_ ”

Yuri blinked, allowed himself to reorient back in the real world. The street and snow and burning faded as he made out the walls of Victor’s room. It was small and cramped and the closest thing to home he had now. Then he forced himself to focus on the figure gripping his arms. Chris stared back.

Yuri opened his mouth to reassure him, to snap that he was fine and to let go, but found he’d swallowed his voice. That was fine. Chris hadn’t lost the capability of speaking.

“ _Jesus_ kid. I heard you screaming and thought someone had broken in,” Chris explained, settling back on his heels as he obviously tried to calm his racing heart as he added, “You sounded like someone set your clothes on fire.”

Next thing he knew Yuri was in the bathroom getting sick in the toilet. Chris rubbed small circles in his back, and he looked remorseful. Yuri hated that he hated the fact he put that expression on the older man’s face as he sat back. Chris wiped his mouth with a washcloth he wetted at the sink.

“That was in poor taste for me,” Chris apologized as he reached over Yuri’s shoulder to flush, “Do you want to go back to bed?”

Yuri shook his head, voice still lost to him. Sleep was where the fire and screaming and death was, and he never thought he’d find something worse than constantly being tired. He shivered so Chris lifted him off the floor like one would a child and carried him to the living room.

Yuri nestled his head against Chris’s shoulder and relished in the life he offered. He didn’t try shoving him away or protest to being manhandled, which he knew only succeeded in concerning Chris further. He was too weak to care, strangled noise of protest escaping his lips when he was set down on the couch.

“I’m going to get you a glass of water,” Chris informed him, swaddling him in Victor’s comforter.

Yuri settled in it, inhaling the scent of Victor it held. It was a strange comfort, and it offered him warmth as he watched Chris move to the kitchen. He had his phone out, was probably texting Victor. Yuri wanted to protest- wanted to protect Victor from this- but his voice was still absent and it wasn’t anything Victor didn’t already know.

When Chris returned he practically stuck a straw in his mouth as he offered, “Victor just got off and is on his way. He should have never left you here alone while you were healing.”

And, like magic, Yuri found his voice.

“Victor’s doing the best he can. He can’t help it,” he snapped, annoyed and defensive and he’d never figured out what it was about people insulting Victor that riled him up so much- even before when Victor had spent every waking breath cursing Yuri’s existence.

Chris seemed taken aback by the fire in Yuri’s voice. Yuri furrowed his brow by how hoarse he sounded. Chris had said he’d heard him screaming but surely he hadn’t been screaming the whole time, not when he felt himself strangling on his voice.

Chris’s confusion didn’t last long as his face melted into something soft and affectionate as he agreed, “Of course Yuri. You’ve always been the smart one.”

Yuri had already started to fade at the words, eyes going droopy and his head heavy. He didn’t want to sleep, though. He couldn’t. Not so soon. Chris reached out and shook his shoulder, eyes back to being worried. Yuri blinked owlishly back at him.

Chris seemed to think better of something as he suddenly pulled away and said, “You should sleep. You need sleep.”

Yuri shook his head, but it came off sluggish. His body was working against him and he was fading and fading fast.

Still he managed a weak, “No.”

“ _Yuri_ -”

“They’re there in my dreams,” not too terrible, “They’re burning,” which sounded weird, “I should’ve burned with them,” and that was just bad.

He didn’t need Chris to tell him he wasn’t making any sense. He _knew_ he wasn’t, but Chris was there reminding him nevertheless. He was keeping his hands to himself, though, and Yuri wasn’t feeling up to moving all that much so he just stared.

Chris must have realized what Yuri was speaking of a split second later as he blinked, and his mouth turned into a knowing circle. Eyes widened comically and his face looked so ridiculous all of a sudden Yuri couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and pinching Chris’s nose.

“One day your face is going to get stuck like that,” Yuri warned with a sour expression, eyebrows furrowed and serious. Chris smiled back at him, always so loving and gentle.

“Do you think you can keep something solid down?” was what Chris asked, leaning back out of Yuri’s reach.

Yuri hugged Victor’s comforter tighter around his shoulders. It was comforting- the surrounding scent of Victor clinging on the fabric- and it made Yuri feel safe. Secure.

He took a long moment to think it over, stomach a sour knotted mess. It wasn’t the same as being sick, though, but he ended up shaking his head all the same. Chris nodded and the matter was settled.

The door opened and a slightly frazzled Victor burst in. Frantic blue eyes almost instantly narrowed on Yuri curled up on the couch. Yuri stared back, hoping he looked better than he felt. He must have as the panic faded, in its place a steely seriousness Victor rarely allowed himself to show.

He crossed the room in several long strides. Chris rose so Victor could take his spot, and Victor did. Kneeling down by the couch while he reached out to grab onto Yuri’s wrist. Long fingers wrapped around Yuri’s pale skin, and Victor held them there as if ensuring himself of a pulse. Of the life stubbornly beating underneath his fingers.

Blue eyes were narrowed like he was still worried, and Yuri hasn’t stopped worrying him since the explosion, and it was getting annoying. Yuri still had a glass of water in his other hand so he splashed it on Victor’s face.

Silver bangs clung to Victor’s forehead as blue eyes seemed to freeze over in shock. Yuri could see the buffering sign pop up over Victor’s head as he tried to process the fact Yuri just threw a glass of water at him. Chris laughed amused even as he bent over to take the glass from his hand.

“He’s certainly your child,” Chris noted, and Yuri knew the stubborn set Yuri and Victor’s faces took were identical as they snapped as one.

“He’s not my child.”

“I’m not his child.”

Chris’s laugh echoed around them even as he moved to the kitchen. He brought Victor back a hand towel before reaching out to run his fingers through Yuri’s hair. Yuri didn’t bother fighting him off, resigning himself to pouting angrily up at him.

Victor’s fingers squeezed, not having left his wrist when Yuri had thrown his water at him. He’d calmed down considerably since entering the apartment, and if Yuri wasn’t so comfortable he’d kick Chris’s face in for worrying him so much.

“Chris told me you got sick,” Victor finally said, and whatever lingering panic he held seemed to dissipate with the words.

Yuri blinked, stared for a long moment debating on what he should and shouldn’t say in that moment. Victor wasn’t fragile, had gone through enough in his life to understand what it was like to have a hard childhood, but he worried so easily.

“I remembered the explosion,” Yuri admitted, never any good at keeping secrets from Victor, “and it brought up other memories. My parents-”

Victor’s fingers tightened, and Yuri took that as the okay to stop speaking. He cut himself off, blinking up at Victor. Victor’s expression was calm and tender, soft in ways only Victor could pull off. It calmed something inside of Yuri, and he blinked up at Victor with a childlike expression- Victor being one of the only people who could make him feel his age just by a _look_.

Victor shifted his weight so he was sitting on the coffee table as he promised, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Even with water on his face and his cheeks flushed with cold and the rush to get from the coffee shop to their apartment, Victor still looked like a model who’d walked off the pages of one of those high dollar magazines they couldn’t afford. Stupid attractive man and Yuri had found a long time ago that it was harder to be angry with attractive people.

Or maybe it was just Victor.

Behind the couch Chris said with a hint of bitterness, “I take it you’ve decided on staying at your current job Victor.”

The words made Yuri frown as he asked concernedly, “Why would you quit?”

Victor glared, and it was frightening. His fingers remained gentle around Yuri’s wrist, though, which meant he hadn’t wanted Yuri to know they’ve ever talked about quitting. Victor was a man of many secrets- that was certain.

“I wouldn’t,” Victor ground out, blue eyes still burning like frostbite.

Yuri twisted his arm so he could break Victor’s hold and grasp onto his wrist. Victor’s eyes focused back on him, melting into a gentle expression. Yuri refused to let the look get to him because Victor was entitled to his secrets but not from him. Not since Yuri learned about his secret life.

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuri warned in a low growl, nails digging into the soft flesh of Victor’s arm.

Victor didn’t pull away as he reassured earnestly, “I wouldn’t, Yura. Chris had just wanted me to quit Monday, and I didn’t really go back much this week.” _Because you were missing- presumed dead_ , went unsaid.

Yuri twisted, not ready to give up his anger just yet, as he demanded sharply, “Why did Chris want you to quit?”

Chris didn’t seem alarmed or flustered by the look. He didn’t even seem surprised, the jerk, and because he was so insensitive he bent forward to press a kiss against the crown of Yuri’s head.

“Call me overprotective,” was all Chris offered, and it was annoying but Yuri couldn’t fault the man for caring about Victor.

Yuri burrowed himself back into the couch, enjoying the little cocoon he’d created. It was nice and warm and with Victor’s fingers latched around his wrist it felt safe. The sounds of his parents burning from the inside out has subsided considerably, but it was still lingering. Underneath the surface. Lurking beneath the shadows of sleep.

“It’s dark outside,” Yuri noted, pushing those thoughts deep down, “Why is it dark outside?”

“Chris stayed past his lunch break,” Victor explained, thump rubbing circles against Yuri’s pale skin, “He didn’t want to wake you so he stayed.”

“That’s dumb,” Yuri yawned, “Do none of you have jobs?”

Chris laughed as his fingers settled back into his hair and his words were nothing but warm and affection as he murmured, “You are a fulltime job kid.”

Yuri’s pout deepened, causing Victor to smile warmly at him. Yuri didn’t smile back, but it was a close thing. Then Victor released his wrist, and Yuri felt very small suddenly. Then Victor was speaking and Yuri was a child- a very young, very small child.

“You need a hobby,” he announced, “Once you return to school you need to find something to occupy your free time in the afternoons.”

Yuri crossed his arms- more defensive than defiant- as he demanded, “Are you punishing me?”

“Not about this,” Victor reassured, “You’re body is almost healed, but it left cracks in your mind. You need to work on healing them.”

His hands moved up to cradle the either of Yuri’s face, long fingers brushing over his cheekbones as he regarded him with a worried expression.

“What could you possibly want me to do?” Yuri griped because it made sense and Victor making sense annoyed him.

“Find a hobby. Engage your mind into something your passionate about,” Victor replied, “You can’t bury something like that, and you can’t just forget it. We were wrong to ever assume otherwise. Tell me you understand.”

Yuri nodded, and Victor’s face spread back into that goofy smile of his and, for a moment, everything seemed okay.

{…}

Chris left before Yuuri got home. Victor had called him asking to bring home something to eat so he brought home Chinese. Dumplings stuffed with something brown and greasy, and a soup that tasted of salt and chicken. It was some of the best things Yuri’s ever eaten.

It helped that Victor allowed them to eat on the couch, turning on an old movie that had been filmed when black and white had been the only two colors Hollywood believed in. It was also American and though they could all speak English Victor still turned the subtitles on.

Victor took the middle spot on the couch, curling an arm around Yuri’s waist as Yuri used the older man’s shoulder for a pillow. Yuuri sat on Victor’s other side, their hips touching and Victor’s other arm was casually draped around the back of the couch.

It wasn’t much, but it came from Victor who could make the smallest things feel like the most important things, and Yuri felt happy. It was ridiculous and the recently uncovered memories were still floating right on the surface, but Victor’s presence kept them at bay.

The first movie was long and the plot hilariously bad but then it ended and Yuri realized he hadn’t wanted it to end. He made a soft sound of protest that made Victor chuckle as he rose from the couch and put a different movie on.

Yuuri rose when Victor did, wandering to the kitchen to warm up some more of the salty soup for Yuri. He accepted it without complaint but just swirled the clear yellow liquid around in sloshy circles.

“Don’t you have work in the morning?” Yuri asked instead, stalling.

Yuuri gave him a gentle smile in return as he reassured, “It’ll be fine. How are you feeling?”

Yuri shrugged but that didn’t feel like enough so he replied, “I’ve been better. Victor says I need a hobby.”

Yuuri’s eyes turned mischievous as he turned to regard the older man watching them. Victor’s smile turned pained as he seemed to realize something but it never dropped from his face.

“Oh did he now?” Yuuri asked and his voice was a cross between sweet and dangerous, like he was afraid of Victor hurting his feelings by the recommendation.

It was nice knowing Yuuri cared, though he knew Victor appreciated it more than Yuri. Not that Yuri didn’t appreciate the protective concern, it was just _Victor_.

“Yeah,” Yuri agreed before either idiot could continue speaking, “and he’s right, which is something I never thought I’d say but he is.”

Yuuri looked surprised at the admission. Something that has everything to do with Yuri’s admission to Victor being right and not with the fact that Victor was right about something. Fools, the both of them. But then Yuuri’s expression softened, brown eyes growing gentle and kind and almost fond.

“You say that like you have a hobby already in mind,” Yuuri noted with a dip of his head, eyes shining with curiosity.

“I do,” Yuri confessed shyly as he avoided eye contact and asked uncertainly, “Do you have any afternoon lessons available?”

Yuuri grinned as he reached out to pet pale hair and nodded, “I think I have an open spot.”

Before Yuri could reply Victor was leaping across the small room to land back beside him on the couch. Soup spilled over the cup and onto the comforter Yuri had wrapped around his body. He cursed, shouting insults at a laughing Victor. Even Yuuri was smiling in amusement as he took his spot back on the couch.

The movie was one from Disney- old and animated and full of singing. Victor laughed at all the jokes, cursed whenever someone was mean to the heroine. He even cried towards the end declaring love to be the most beautiful thing the world had to offer.

Yuuri had fallen asleep before the first song was over. He curled up against the couch’s armrest, glasses crooked on his face, as he breathed deeply. Victor undoubtedly noticed as he’d snagged the end of Yuri’s (technically Victor’s but he didn’t do laundry and Yuri had claimed it as his own) cover and yanked it over the three of them.

When Yuri had complained Victor had just huffed, “I’m cold.”

Yuri rolled his eyes, pinched Victor in the side and claimed not unkindly, “You’re such a princess Vitya.”

Victor laughed, curled his arm around his shoulders and pulled him into his side. Yuri doesn’t remember drifting off, only that when he woke up they’d spent the night on the couch with the TV playing the movie’s home screen on mute, and he realized he didn’t dream once all night.


	14. No Honor In Lying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets are revealed and then there's a fallout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to leave this here and bolt because this chapter was so incredibly difficult to get through and I have no idea why. Anyways, I hope the characters weren't too OC and I assure you there's a good reason if they are. Like always, hope you enjoy and tell me what you think.

Five years ago Yuri’s entire world was upended. Something had happened to his parents, Yuuri knew, and his last family member dropped him off at Victor’s doorstep. The story had holes, and Yuuri couldn’t figure how someone from Moscow could know a practical recluse in St. Petersburg. Yet they did and the two Russians were forced on the other.

There were some bumps, plenty of mishaps Yuuri will never know of but he knew Victor learned to care for the kid. Maybe he hadn’t at first, it sounded like it took him awhile to get there, but now it was no secret that Yuri was Victor’s whole world.

It also was no secret that Victor could sleep like the dead, and no matter how much he cared for Yuri he wasn’t waking up for him.

Yuri didn’t bother trying as he untangled himself from Victor’s side, dropping the comforter around his drooping frame, and moved to the kitchen where Yuuri stood. Yuuri gave him a friendly smile as the youth leaned tiredly against the opposite counter.

“Would you like some coffee?” Yuuri asked when the kid didn’t immediately say anything.

Yuri shook his head, looking better than he had yesterday. Actually rested and calmer and Yuuri figured the healing was almost if not yet finished. There was something else, something that had Yuri asking him for help.

“Have you ever skated before?” Yuuri inquired curiously.

“My grandpa used to take me when I was little,” Yuri explained in a hum, eyes going soft and dreamy as he spoke of his grandfather, “I had to be put with the older kid’s because I took to it so quickly.”

It was said simply- simple fact and nothing more. Yuuri believed him, was excited to watch his thin form move on the ice- something about the way the kid was built had Yuuri thinking he was quite flexible. Yuri gave him a droll stare in return, the pleasant mood thinking of his grandfather gone now.

“I’ve seen perverts stare at me less creepily than you are right now,” the kid stated boldly, and Yuuri hid his smile behind his coffee.

Yuri had a way with words, that was certain, and his bluntness was starting to grow on him. It was almost enduring how he wasn’t afraid of being shy or conservative- reminded him of his older sister in a strange way.

She would’ve loved Yuri. Adored him, even.

_You’re starting to care too much. Careful._

_Oh great. You’re back._

Yuri narrowed green eyes at him as he asked, “Are you feeling alright? You look like you just ate something Victor cooked.”

This time Yuuri didn’t bother hiding his laugh. At the sound, Yuri’s face softened considerably. It was dizzyingly how quickly he could go from this fierce thing to a child- innocent and young and almost angelic.

“I’m fine,” he reassured, “I need to head to work soon. Will you two be okay for the day?”

He expected for Yuri to immediately jump on the defensive. It was partially why Yuuri said it, something about a childish Yuri that seemed unnatural to him. Even worst was when they seemed to be getting along and as much as Yuuri would love developing a relationship with the teen it was just too dangerous at the moment.

Yuri didn’t, though.

He turned a dubious glance at Victor’s sleeping form and looked almost reluctant at the thought of waiting for him to wake up. Yuuri’s heart went out for him, and it was pure insanity that had Yuuri opening his mouth once more.

“Do you want to come to the rink with me?” Yuuri asked before adding, “I’m eager to see you on the ice,” but that sounded creepy and Yuuri silently cursed his mouth.

Yuri didn’t seem to take offense. He’d already called him a pervert, and the sun wasn’t even up yet. He just watched as the blonde took on a thoughtful expression and he suddenly seemed unsure.

“Are you certain?” Yuri questioned and Yuuri smiled, nodded, bringing forth a slight smile to spread across the pale face.

It was then Yuuri realized what Victor saw in the kid that he wanted to protect with such intensity.

At first he’d thought it was the youth because Yuri was young and it was easy to have that urge to shelter children- no matter how mouthy or bratty they were. Then he thought it was because the kid adored Victor with a passion few could replicate.

It hadn’t been until then that Yuri had allowed all his defenses to drop in Yuuri’s presence, revealing a light- a purity- all but lost in the world they currently lived in, and he felt the heat and need bubble up in his stomach.

_I always thought you were cutest when you’re all protective Yuuri. This is good stuff._

Yuuri winced at the voice despite knowing he shouldn’t have. Yuri’s eyes clouded back with that concern, and anybody else would’ve asked. Yuri always seemed capable of reading between the lines, though, and that was a dangerous trait Yuuri should’ve concerned himself over more.

He didn’t and knew never would because Yuri didn’t ask. Instead the youth dipped his head towards the door as he suggested they get going. Yuuri couldn’t agree fast enough- sloppy and so obviously concealing something- but Yuri pretended he didn’t notice as he moved towards the door.

Yuuri left Victor a note, explaining where they both went, before following Yuri out the door.

{…}

Yuri didn’t have a pair of his own skates so he had to rent some from the front desk. They were grungy, at best. Old and worn down and the age stemmed more from constant abuse than any sort of love towards the sport.

Yuri didn’t seem to mind, couldn’t get the skates on fast enough. His eyes were shining with barely concealed excitement, and when he stepped on the ice it was easy to see why. It was like watching a completely new person- someone delicate and beautiful while remaining strong and controlled with every movement.

Fifteen, haven’t skated for years, and already the best skater Yuuri’s ever seen.

When he finished he turned expectant eyes towards him, and it was then Yuuri remembered he was supposed to be teaching. Yuri’s face soured at his expression, arms crossing over a thin chest as he narrowed an irritated glare at him.

“Did you doze off during my performance?” Yuri snapped, voice tight and angry.

Yuuri blinked, still reeling from the shock. Yuri was good- dizzyingly so- and Yuuri wished he was better. He wished there was something he could teach the kid.

“No Yuri,” Yuuri reassured but that didn’t sound like enough so he added, “You’re good. Really good. Like… so good.”

Yuri blushed, and it was cute in a strange way. He was still glaring, though, so less cute.

“I already knew that,” Yuri snapped back, and it was almost funny how defensive he was acting.

“I know,” Yuuri agreed but words had never come easy for him and now was no exception, “I just… wow. I don’t know what to say.”

Yuri folded his arms, dipped his head to the side. Pale blonde strands dangled out from his ponytail, obscuring his face. His eyes. A lion crouched amongst the grass, waiting and watching.

Finally Yuri decided on, “Don’t say anything. I thought I asked you to teach me. Not babble incoherently.”

It was Yuuri’s turn to blush as he declared, “I’m not babbling. I am just impressed is all.”

Yuri snorted, turning away. The sun was starting to shine through the windows, creating a bright glow amongst the ice. It reflected, creating a sort of halo to those on it. Funny because Yuri’s face was anything but angelic.

“You really are a stupid piggy,” Yuri snapped, words crafted to hurt but somehow they seemed to fall flat.

Yuuri snorted hiding a laugh behind a smile as he hummed, “Thanks for that and I’m not exaggerating. You really are quite talented- near flawless- but there’s some technical things I think we could work on. I mean, if you’re okay with that?”

Yuri rolled his eyes, and that time his annoyance was real. Yuuri felt a little bad about that but waited patiently for Yuri’s answer. Yuri finally relented with a heavy sigh.

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want your help in getting better,” Yuri admitted, shoulders sagging and face softening.

Yuuri nodded, slipping on his skates and stepping onto the ice.

{…}

Victor arrived hours later, snowflakes melting in long lashes and silver hair. His cheeks were rosy, and he was smiling, and it was the most gorgeous thing Yuuri’s ever seen before. Truly breathtaking causing Yuuri’s chest to constrict as his heart fluttered around inside his chest awkwardly.

He came barring a white plastic bag full of bagels and cheeses and various fruits Yuri immediately lay claim to. Victor chuckled fondly, blue eyes sparkling with love and affection as the kid chewed greedily. Yuuri watched it all, heart filling oddly light at the sight. Then Victor noticed his attention and offered him a smile of his own.

It wasn’t nearly as bright or adoring, but that was because they haven’t known each other as long. They haven’t gone through half the things Victor and Yuri had. It was surprisingly soft, loving and kind and filled with a light Yuuri didn’t deserve. He found himself smiling back, and he knew it was expression he gave Phichit: genuine and tender and devoted. Everything Victor did deserve.

“I’m glad to see this is working out,” Victor noted with a nod before blue eyes focused back on him and he asked, “Can I speak with you Yuuri?”

Yuri took the hint. Green eyes glanced between the two of them as the youth sipped at his water bottle before he made some vague excuse and wandered off. Yuuri watched him go but Victor did not, blue eyes staring at him with a frightening intensity.

“Victor? What is it?” Yuuri asked with a nervous laugh, stomach rolling anxiously; he twitched, hopping from foot to foot.

“I have a question,” Victor started before scrunching his nose in an adorable expression and continued, “Every year St. Petersburg hosts an exposition of some sort. It’s a tourist thing, I think, and they always have some sort of gala a month before to draw people in, get the word out.”

Victor sounded nervous. Did Victor get nervous? Why was Victor nervous?

“I know of the expositions Victor,” Yuuri reassured with a confused smile, “and I know of the galas. Just like I know that the galas are free, and the expositions are something special.”

Victor finally managed a smile as he nodded and agreed, “They are. I also get invited to them each year but usually don’t go. Life gets in the way and I usually stay at home with Yuri because he’d kick me in the face if I ever dare asked to accompany him.”

He sucked in a deep breath, reaching out to grasp onto Yuuri’s hands as he continued, “What I wanted to ask is for you to not kick me in the face when I ask if you’d like to go with me and that you could say yes because I’ve already said I’d go and would hate to show up alone-”

Yuuri reached out to press a finger to Victor’s lips as he said, “Here I thought I was the one who was supposed to speak nonsense when I was nervous.”

Victor gave him a sharp look but his eyes remained soft and pleading. Yuuri’s heart soared at the sight, warmth flooding through him and Victor had been the only person to make him feel like this. Victor reached up to encompass Yuuri’s hand in his own. He said nothing though, awaiting for Yuuri’s response.

_Say yes. This is your in so say. Yes._

Yuuri allowed all the warmth he’s felt inside his chest rise to his face in a smile as he agreed, “Of course I’ll go with you Victor. I’d love nothing more than to go with you, but isn’t it in, like, a month from now?”

Victor hummed, blue eyes lidded and uncertain, as he corrected, “Two weeks.”

Yuuri wanted to say something, thought there was more that Victor wanted to say, but then Yuri’s face popped up between them munching loudly on a bag of chips he got from one of the rink’s vending machine.

“If you two are done being gross there’s a lesson we need to get back to,” Yuri declared brazenly, green eyes flickering between the two of them.

The smile Victor gave Yuri was different than the one he had several moments ago. Parental and filled with a love no one could ever compete with. Yuuri couldn’t see why anyone would want to.

“Of course,” Victor hummed reaching out to ruffle his hair, “I need to use the toilet.”

{…}

“Yuri?”

Both of them turned to see Yakov’s aged face crease in confusion. Yuri’s stomach dropped at the sight of it. Dark eyes were already clouding over with disapproving concern as they flickered, probably searching for Victor who’d just disappeared down the hall in search of the bathroom.

Yuuri- of course- misunderstood.

“Yes boss?” he asked innocently, head tipping to the side like he couldn’t fathom what he’s done wrong and he couldn’t be faulted in not knowing that Yakov’s protectiveness could rival Victor’s.

Yakov blinked, recovered and demanded, “What are you two doing?”

From his spot on the ice Yuri could see the Japanese man square his shoulders and straightened his spine in anticipation. Yakov wasn’t looking for an argument or reason to fire him, however. He was looking for Victor because he knew Victor wouldn’t let him just wander off after this past week.

Yuuri couldn’t be expected to know or understand that. Even so, Yuri couldn’t help but cringe at the man’s next words.

“I’m teaching Yuri to ice skate,” Yuuri announced, sounding proud and uncertain and it was a strange combination.

Yakov’s eyes flickered over to him and lingered before he asked in a slow deliberate tone, “Why?”

“It helps,” Yuri explained before Yuuri’s ignorance could erupt into something dangerous.

“And he’s a quicker learner than Victor,” Yuuri pronounced, and there was nothing but pride in his voice for Yuri to cringe at.

Victor was so busted.

Yakov’s forehead creased and Yuri already knew he wasn’t going to be as apt to keeping Victor’s secrets for him. Yuri wasn’t so sure he was anymore either.

“Victor? He’s returned to the ice?” Yakov demanded in a low grumble but there was an air of excitement in his tone.

Yakov, like Yuri, has seen Victor actually skate. Unlike Yuri he was fortunate enough to see it in real life. Unfortunately for Victor and his secret.

Yuuri blinked and repeated in a dull tone, “Returned?”

Yuri avoided his gaze, unwilling to be the one to out Victor’s secret. Yakov held no such restrictions.

“Yeah. Returned,” Yakov repeated with a voice of annoyance, “Where is he?”

Yuuri ignored the question, switching from glaring between the two of them. He looked almost hurt. Yuri couldn’t blame him. He didn’t appreciate Victor keeping things from him either.

“Victor ice skated before this,” and it wasn’t a question. Then, “You allowed him to slip around on the ice like an idiot?”

Yakov actually looked offended as he demanded, “Slipped around the ice? Victor doesn’t know how to slip on the ice.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to argue but caught Yuri’s eye. Yuri shook his head, feeling uncomfortable, and his mouth snapped shut. Brown eyes were narrowed and angry and because Victor was an oblivious idiot he chose that moment to return.

“Victor,” Yakov barked instantly, “Explain.”

Victor halted to a stop, face clouding over in shock. It didn’t last long. Soon his face had morphed into an indifferent mask: calm and cold and frightening enough to have Yuuri momentarily rethink his anger.

Whereas Victor’s look as made of ice, Yuuri’s anger was fueled by fire and he only paused for a moment before accusing, “You know how to ice skate. You have the whole time.”

Victor’s mask didn’t flicker. He just continued to stare, blue eyes narrowed and furrowed as he glared at something only he could see. Yuuri and Yakov didn’t seem willing to lighten up on him even with the glazed expression crossing his face. Yuri imagined he was reliving the moment he gave up the ice.

“Vitya?” he asked, going for calm and gentle but neither one of those emotions ever came easy for him and after this week it was near impossible.

For Victor he’d do anything and was surprised by how believable it came out as. Victor’s cold gaze flickered over to him, and Yuri didn’t allow himself to falter. At the moment, more than anything, he needed to be Victor’s strength.

Yuuri was the one who spoke, anger coloring his voice an ugly tone, as he accused again, “You know how to skate, and you’ve known how to skate the whole time. Yet you pretended you didn’t. You played me for a fool.”

Blue eyes flickered to the Japanese man as he spoke in a softer more subdued tone, “Yuuri, no. That was never my intention.”

“So what then?” Yuuri growled with impressive ferocity, “You wanted to fall over and over again on the ice? You wanted to look like an incompetent idiot?”

Victor blinked, tipped his head to the side and inquired in a low tone, “You thought I was incompetent?”

It still sounded flat to Yuri, though, and whenever Victor sounded that lifeless nothing good was going on in his head. Nothing good happened because of it either.

“You _acted_ incompetent!” Yuuri corrected still furious, blind to Victor’s pain; Yuri imagined Yakov wasn’t adding anything to it because he did see it.

“What did you want me to say?” Victor challenged and his voice was starting to pitch with his own hopeless anger, “You were eager enough to teach the basics. I couldn’t exactly tell you I already knew them, could I?”

Yuuri’s hands balled into fists, shaking with his anger, as he snarled lowly, “You should’ve never pretended otherwise.”

The words struck a nerve. Victor’s eyes glossed over in a way it hasn’t until Yuri managed to worm his way into his life. It was a look of a dead man whose body hadn’t yet caught up with the rest of him yet. Yuri knew why. Losing Yuuri meant losing the ice and some things shouldn’t have to be given up twice.

“Vitya,” Yuri said before Victor could and he skated over to the barrier so he could be closer as he spoke simply, “Yuuri’s right-”

It was the wrong thing to say even if Yuri hadn’t finished. That didn’t matter, though, because Victor had already closed the distance and had grabbed his face in his fingers. It hurt, and Yuri was on his toes as Victor lifted him up so they could glare into the other’s eyes.

Yuri wasn’t frightened. He knew Victor wasn’t going to hurt him. Victor would never hurt him; he was just in a bad place at the moment. He needed something to ground him, and Yuri was more than willing to allow him anything he needed. Yakov and Yuuri was less willing.

“Victor!” they shouted in unison, and they hadn’t really been angry before compared to how they were now.

Victor paid them no mind as he continued to stare into Yuri’s eyes. Yuri stared back.

“Vitya!” Yakov tried but Yuri pinned him with a look and the man growled from the back of his throat but didn’t move forward.

“I wasn’ dun,” Yuri ground out between squished cheeks and watched as Victor took a deep breath, forcing the tension from his shoulders before releasing him.

Yuri didn’t move backward. He didn’t shift in discomfort, just remained stoic and calm and as grounded as he was capable. Victor said nothing, though his eyes had softened considerably and taken on a spark of regret.

“He’s right,” Yuri continued, eyes never leaving Victor’s, “but you have your reasons to keep your secrets and we all need to respect that.”

He turned his glare towards Yuuri, who deflated slightly under the intense gaze. Nobody bothered to speak after that, which was as good as it was bad. It meant no one was jumping up to back him up as much as it meant no one was refuting him.

The silence stretched, growing terse and awkward. Victor no longer looked angry, just remorseful. Yuuri crossed his arms in a defensive gesture unwilling to play forgiving roommate just yet. Yakov was glaring, brows furrowed and disappointment etched over his features.

“Grab your things Yura,” Victor finally spoke moving away, “We’re going to get you a phone.”

{…}

It was dark by the time they returned, Yuri fumbling with his new device. Otabek had left several messages, which Yuri was quick to reply to. He explained how he hadn’t had a phone, and how he’d finished healing. He didn’t mention the memories or how he’d taken up ice skating to cope.

Otabek didn’t reply, hadn’t even seen the message if the small print at the bottom of every message was anything to go by. Yuri found he didn’t mind all that much.

Victor had stopped brooding, all smiles and public displays of affection. Yuri only protested enough so that it wouldn’t worry Victor further. It worked well enough until they arrived back home to find Yuuri on the couch sipping coffee.

“You’ve returned,” he noted dully without glancing at their entrance.

“We’ve returned,” Victor echoed back and- this time- his voice wasn’t void or empty or carrying that dangerous edge it had at the ice rink.

Yuri glanced between the two of them before proclaiming, “You two need to talk.”

This time Yuuri did look at him, forehead creasing, as he announced in a way that reminded Yuri of himself and nothing of the awkward cheerful Japanese man Victor invited into their lives, “There’s nothing to talk about. You played me for a fool. It won’t happen again.”

“I didn’t-” Victor started in a low whine before he huffed in frustration and didn’t say anything more.

Yuri wanted to kick them both in the face. How was it possible for something so minor as Victor’s skating ability drive a wedge so far between the two of them? Yuri figured that was on him- he shouldn’t have pressured them to do what was obviously coming naturally.

“Victor didn’t play you for a fool,” Yuri snapped, “He quit ice skating.”

Yuuri glanced up, shocked. Victor frowned down at Yuri, probably debating rather or not he wanted to strike him. Yuri ignored both of them. They were both idiots anyways.

Finally Yuuri’s dark eyes flickered over to Victor as he inquired with an air of thoughtfulness, “Why did you pretend you didn’t know how to ice skate?”

Victor shrugged, and Yuri worried Victor was done talking about it. That wasn’t very Victor-like and it sent a jolt of worry to squirm around in Yuri’s stomach. Then,

“I wanted to speak with you,” Victor started before correcting, “I just wanted to get to know you, and you didn’t seem to mind how terrible on the ice I was.”

Yuuri bowed his head and declared in a soft disappointed tone, “You wanted me to teach you things you already knew.”

Victor shrugged, looking away.

Yuri’s phone vibrated in his pocket.

He pulled it out, reading Otabek’s short reply before pocketing it once more. The tension in the room had alleviated some but not much. Yuuri, it seemed, wasn’t in an understanding mood.

“I wanted you to teach me everything I gave up,” Victor corrected, “and you showed me why I shouldn’t have.”

“Oh yeah?” Yuuri challenged, head snapping up and his eyes flashing with his anger, “And, why, exactly did you give it up?”

Victor’s eyes flashed for the first time since their arrival back to the apartment and he muttered in a low tone, “There was an accident. I hurt someone, a friend. I didn’t think I could return after that. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve had a rather tiring day. I’m going to bed now.”

He slunk away, back into the bedroom, and Yuri waited for the door to shut behind him before turning on the man on the couch. He didn’t break the man’s knees but it came to a close thing.

Yuri turned on him, eyes burning, as he snarled, “I warned you. I warned what I’d do to you if you hurt him, and he’s _hurting_.”

Yuuri refused to look at him. He stared down at his coffee, face drawn in a pained expression. It seemed he was capable of remorse after all. Good, now Yuri didn’t feel so bad for not attempting to kill him the second Victor disappeared.

“I was angry,” Yuuri admitted with a shrug, “I still am. He shouldn’t have lied. He shouldn’t have pretended.”

“Drag your head out from your ass,” Yuri snapped peevishly, “He didn’t lie because of you. It didn’t even have anything to do with you, and you can’t expect him to give up the ice again for you.”

Yuuri blinked like it was the first time that thought occurred to him. He seemed appalled by it, which Yuri took great satisfaction in.

“I’d never-” Yuuri was quick to reassure but Yuri wasn’t in a listening mood.

He crossed his arms and tossed his head to the side. Yuuri’s voice trailed off, suddenly unsure, and one of the first thing’s Yuri realized when they met was that the Japanese man wasn’t exactly swimming with self-confidence. Getting lectured by a fifteen-year-old certainly couldn’t help matters ad Victor will make him feel bad for it later.

At the moment, though, Yuri didn’t care. It wasn’t that he disliked Yuuri or anything- it was just Victor and Yuuri had _hurt_ him. Unforgivable no matter how unintentional it was.

“I’m not the one you need to explain yourself to,” Yuri snapped, “and don’t even bother with Victor. The idiot’s already forgiven you. Probably thinks it’s his fault.”

“But it is,” Yuuri tried, “He was the one who lied.”

Yuri felt a flash of anger- hot and piercing- as he spun to face the older man and ground out hotly, “It. Wasn’t. About. You.”

“I never said it was!” Yuuri snapped, “That still doesn’t excuse him for lying!”

Yuri’s anger didn’t leave him but he forced the tension to deflate from his body as he crossed his arms and couldn’t keep the accusatory tone from his voice as he said, “So I take it you haven’t kept anything from us.”

Yuuri dodged his eyes. Yuri knew he had him before the words had ever left his mouth but was too upset to relish in the sense of triumph.

He turned from the older man and announced, “I’m going to bed,” before disappearing behind the door Victor had moments prior.

{…}

_Otabek_ : You alright? You sounded stressed in your last message.

_Yuri_ : I’m fine. Thanks for asking. Just… roommate drama, I guess. It’s complicated.  
 _Yuri_ : Yuuri said something to Vitya and it brought some bad memories.  
 _Yuri_ : I may have gotten a little protective.

_Otabek_ : There’s nothing wrong with protecting the ones you love.  
 _Otabek_ : How about you? Your head, I mean.  
 _Otabek_ : Sometimes peoples’ minds crack after being brought back from where you were.

_Yuri_ : I’m fine.  
 _Yuri_ : Thanks for asking.

{…}

Something Yuri had said last night after he went to bed must have triggered something inside of Yuuri. Victor made a mental note to speak to the youth when the other male wasn’t around- lecture him on people’s feelings, because the look Yuuri gave them was one filled with a remorseful sorrow.

Yuuri greeted them when they entered the living room, looking like he hadn’t slept all night, as he announced, “I’ve been unfair with you Victor. Sit down. There’s something I’ve been keeping from the two of you.”


	15. The Moment After, the Day Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri confesses a long buried secret and plans start to come to the light.

“I’d like to say firstly,” Yuuri started as Yuri and Victor sat down on the couch, “That I’m telling you this because I don’t want there to be any secrets between us. Also, it was unfair of me to jump on you so quickly Victor it’s just… I-”

“It’s okay Yuuri,” Victor reassured, gentle and soft and caring.

Perhaps Yuri was right because Victor’s eyes were supportive and needy and Yuuri was unfair to have jumped down his throat so quickly. Then he thought of Celestino, and he shivered. He’d trusted him, once upon a time, forgave him for all his blunders and now he was here.

Victor wasn’t a Celestino, though. He’d do well to remember that or else Yuri might do well on his threats and Yuuri would be a hobbling supervillain.

Yuuri sat on the corner of the coffee table and continued, “A long time ago when I was about your age Yuri, my mother got sick. The doctors all told us she was dying, and there was nothing they could do as they couldn’t figure out what was wrong with her. My father went crazy looking for a cure. I was still a child, but I worried I was losing both parents to this all the same.”

He sucked in a deep breath, old pains returning. Even now, even after all these years and he knew how the story ends, it still brought a crushing weight pressing against his chest. _Anxiety_ , the doctor would say but Yuuri disagreed.

He wasn’t anxious. He’d been a terrified little kid and no one would tell him what was going on, and that wasn’t something someone forgot easily.

“Yuuri,” Victor breathed, blue eyes sparkling with a shared sorrow, and Yuuri yearned to be able to take the pain of losing their parents from Victor and Yuri.

“She survived,” Yuuri reassured abruptly because Victor looked like he was going to hug him and Yuuri didn’t want that to be without good reason, “A boy showed up on our doorstep one day. Young, younger than me, and he said he could help. And he did. He was… um. He was a user. A healer.”

The words triggered something inside of Yuri. His spine went straight and his hands turned into tight fists. His knuckles were bleached and the tendons poked out of his skin. He suddenly looked frighteningly young.

Yuuri gazed into those pale green eyes and murmured, “I have reason to believe that this is the same healer that healed you, Yuri.”

Yuri’s face was twisted and ugly as he ground out in an almost painful tone- like the words were cutting him, “You know his name?”

Yuuri met his eyes and lied, “No. Do you?”

Yuri furrowed his brows but Victor was the one who said, “I thought you said you didn’t want to lie anymore.”

Yuuri sighed, scrubbing his face with his hands so hard it hurt. Strong hands reached forward, grabbing onto his wrists and pulled them away. Yuuri stared up into gentle blue eyes that he found himself wanting to get lost in. They promised a home and everything that came with it: love, protection, a _family_.

Yuuri wanted it. More than anything, he wanted it.

He pulled his hands free because he knew that was something he wasn’t allowed to have.

“He gave us his name after he healed my mother. Before he called himself the Hero of Kazakhstan, told us that’s what the news called him back home.”

“His _name_ ,” Yuri growled with a protective fury he reserved only for Victor.

Yuuri wanted to scrub his face, rip his hair out. He wanted to crawl under his covers and hid because this was something he’s been denying himself.

“Otabek Altin,” Yuuri said, waiting for the voice inside his head to flare excitedly.

It remained silent. Yuri’s jaw twitched.

Victor didn’t look surprised either, and Yuuri silently cursed. He wasn’t all that shocked, though. Victor was smarter than Yuri gave him credit for.

“Don’t all jump up in surprise at once,” was what Yuuri murmured burying his face back in his hands.

Victor rose to his feet before sticking out his hand. Yuuri hesitated before accepting it. Victor hauled up before drawing him in a confining embrace.

“Thank you for telling us,” Victor whispered in his ear, “Even though you weren’t obligated to do so and should never feel like you’re obligated to do anything for me.”

Yuuri smiled in Victor’s shoulder, inhaled his scent. It was nice, and he felt safe for the first time in a long time. When they pulled away Yuuri met Victor’s eyes.

“So we’re okay then?” Yuuri asked blushing wildly, “For the exposition, I mean? You’ll still want to take me.”

Victor’s smile was all sunshine and warmth as he chirped, “Of course.”

Yuuri beamed at that, even as Yuri growled from the couch, “You two are gross.”

{…}

Not much happened the rest of the weekend. Yuuri and Victor were back to being professionally polite to one another, kind like strangers who just met. Yuri let them. If they wanted to act like idiots then they were responsible for working these things out by themselves.

He spent most of it messaging Otabek, and in return the healer would frequently end him pictures of Potya or explained how he’d never owned a cell phone before. Yuri taught him emojis and gifs and how to tag things so you didn’t sound like a douche or a prude. He never spoke about Victor nor Yuuri and Otabek never asked.

Then Monday was there and he woke up to blue eyes staring back at him. Yuri cried out in shock, instinct burning through him and Victor’s face ended up smacked on the side of a pillow. A soft noise of protest escaped the otherwise deep sleeper.

“I’m glad to see you’re back to your usual violent self,” Victor noted, taking the pillow and setting it to the side as he climbed up into a sitting position.

Yuri crossed his arms with a snort, looking away.

Victor continued to stare. Yuri’s skin crawled from where he was looking at him, but oddly enough it felt comforting. It felt normal- their normal at least. Proof they were all screwed seven ways to Sunday or however the Americans said it.

“You can stay home if you’d like,” Victor said, “No one will think less of you.”

Yuri’s head snapped back to him as he demanded, “Since when have I cared what people thought? I can’t hid in your apartment forever.”

Victor sighed, remorseful.

Beside him the covers shifted as the older male rose, and a gentle hand cupped the side of his face. Yuri blinked up at bright blue eyes as Victor bent over and planted a firm kiss to his forehead. When he moved away he looked sad. Lost and sad and hurt.

“ _Our_ apartment,” Victor corrected, “and no matter what happens. No matter who I invite into our lives my home will always be your home. There will always be a place for you.”

Yuri rolled his eyes around the room before murmuring sarcastically, “Now I feel better.”

The hand left his cheek to swat the back of his head. It took Yuri off guard because Victor wasn’t a naturally violent person. This was different than him lashing out in anger or fear or resentment, however. This was an affection Yuri always believed was lost to him.

And because Yuri was bad at feelings and will always be bad at feelings he proclaimed “I’m going to school,” as he moved off the bed to get ready.

Victor chuckled as he climbed from the bed and out the room. Yuri resisted the urge to throw something at his head.

It wasn’t much, but it was their normal.

{…}

School wasn’t as nightmarish as Yuri had anticipated.

He’d arrived only a couple minutes late (Victor stalled for- _freaking_ -ever) and the teacher had been in mid-lecture when he’d walked in. The teacher glanced at him, and an eyebrow rose impressively. Then Yuri slumped in his seat and started scribbling notes on his paper.

He was aware of curious glances in his direction, but he ignored them. It wasn’t until class dismissed that he was tackled in a bone crushing hug from behind. Caught off guard they tumbled forward onto the floor, Yuri growling lowly in the back of his throat.

He turned to see the idiot that attacked him, and the words died in his throat. Short undercut, dark eyes, tanned skin. Yuri’s heart leapt to his throat even when he realized something was off.

“JJ?’ he scowled, not even bothering to hide the disappointment from his voice.

JJ didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were frantic and desperate. He was squeezing his shoulders, mouth opening and closing studiedly. Yuri realized he probably should’ve informed him that he hadn’t died in that explosion.

_Whoops._

“JJ,” Yuri repeated a little firmer as he reached up to push the older boy off him.

JJ went willing, rolling over to his knees and dragging Yuri from the ground so he could wrap him in another tight hug. Unfortunately, JJ seemed to have found his voice and was sobbing his name over and over again like he couldn’t believe it was real. Like he couldn’t believe Yuri was alive.

Yuri didn’t shove him away as he sat in JJ’s arms dumbly. He thought of their fight ( _stupid,_ _trivial_ ) and the explosion ( _burning, pain, stop thinking about it_ ) and- for the first time- how it must’ve been like for JJ. He’d made it clear enough times before that he thought the world of Yuri and would’ve certainly been distraught at his violent passing.

 _Double whoops_.

Yuri blinked, regained his composure and shoved JJ away from him as he growled, “JJ. _Stop._ ”

JJ froze, watching him. He kept his hands around Yuri’s wrist as he squeezed uncertainly. He looked timid and frightened and Yuri had put that expression on his face because _people were impossible to understand and why did they keep wiggling their ways into his life?_

“JJ,” Yuri growled and that didn’t seem right so he sucked in a deep breath and tried in a more reasonable manner, “I’m fine. I should’ve thought of telling you earlier.”

JJ didn’t seem to mind as he pulled Yuri back against his chest. Yuri blinked over his shoulder and realized his shadow was missing.

“Where’s Isabella?” he asked when JJ finally pulled away.

JJ’s face grew dark and stormy. Yuri realized what that look meant, though he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t thought the two could _get_ angry with the other.

“We’re not talking,” JJ confided all the same.

He climbed to his feet before Yuri could reply, jerking him up as he went and Yuri allowed himself to be manhandled. JJ wasn’t meeting his eyes anymore, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. A week ago Yuri would’ve jumped at his moment of weakness. Now he just stood and waited patiently.

“I thought- you looked,” JJ’s voice cracked and he growled lowly in frustration.

Yuri crossed his arms and waited. Clearly JJ thinking he’d died affected him more than Yuri could’ve imagined. JJ gave a sharp cry of frustration.

He ran a hand through his hair as he finally managed, “She knew, and she didn’t tell me. She pulled me away, and the bitch _knew_.”

Ignoring his language Yuri inquired, “Why would she need to pull you away?”

A dark look crossed JJ’s expression even though he tried shrugging it off- tried for indifferent- but Yuri placed the pieces together. He took great care in keeping his understanding from his features. If JJ wanted him to know then he’d tell him.

JJ, evidently, did _not_ want him to know.

“I guess she was afraid we could be blamed or something,” he lied.

Yuri nodded.

He couldn’t blame JJ on not wanting to tell him he was a user- that Isabella was probably also one as well. The fact remained that Yuri wasn’t, and those were more dangerous than exploding vans or diamond thieves and everything in between.

“It sounds like she had your best interests at heart,” Yuri tried.

He didn’t know why. Only that JJ hadn’t been speaking, and the silence had grown awkward. He started herding them down the hall towards the classroom- none of the other students bold enough to tell JJ what to do. Maybe they all knew too.

JJ snorted and grew distant and sullen. Yuri allowed it. He wasn’t exactly the _biggest_ fan of Isabella to begin with. He hadn’t thought he was of JJ either but no one deserved to think they’d left someone in the snow to die.

Then he took one step into his next class and froze.

“Yuri?” JJ inquired, halting at his side and staring down at him with a concerned expression.

Yuri ignored him because sitting there was JJ’s doppelganger. He had the same haircut, same dark eyes, same skin tone. Same and worlds apart. Distinct and obvious and Yuri’s heart did a weird fluttering thing inside his chest. A hand gripped his shoulder and gave him the slightest of shakes.

“Yuri?” JJ repeated.

Yuri blinked back up at him, furrowing his eyebrow and said, “I’m fine.”

He moved to take the seat beside Otabek’s. Otabek glanced over at him, offered the fleetest of smiles, before concentrating back in front of him. It seemed Otabek wasn’t going to be obvious they’ve met before which meant Yuri spent the rest of class glaring, feeling very put off by this development.

JJ took the seat on his other side and stared at him the whole time. It made Yuri very uncomfortable, but he didn’t say anything about it. He could practically hear Victor’s voice telling him he had managed to cause JJ anxiety.

_Three strikes and you’re out._

Yuri’s scowl deepened at his traitorous thoughts. Class couldn’t end quickly enough, though it now seemed greatly less terrible with Otabek sitting next to him.

Class, mercifully, did end and Otabek was the first gone. He was scowling, making him look completely out of place. Like an outsider, like Yuri had been before JJ decided he was going to be his friend. Yuri held more respect for that decision as Otabek seemed to be actively avoiding him.

JJ noticed. Of course he would notice. The only thing he seemed to stare at the whole day was Yuri glaring at Otabek’s aloof form.

At lunch Yuri caught sight of Isabella. Or, more accurately, she caught sight of him. She goggled his existence like it was impossible and he didn’t insult her intelligence by correcting her. Not even when she stomped over to his table for a closer inspection.

“How?” she demanded almost instantly and she didn’t bend over to drag him in a tight hug like JJ had but she also wasn’t ignoring him like Otabek so that was something.

“It’s a miracle,” JJ informed her coolly, “Something you wouldn’t know anything about.”

She ignored him.

Yuri wished he could ignore the both of them.

Lunch passed dully after that. Neither Isabella nor JJ wanted to part with him, which was awkward because neither seemed all that ready to forgive the other for whatever happened while Yuri was not-dying.

He didn’t share any other classes with Otabek, which were major disappointments. He risked a couple of texts but Otabek never replied, and every time JJ craned his neck to see what he was writing. Until finally Yuri got so annoyed he punched JJ in the nose and it started bleeding so he had to go see the nurse but was back before that class ended.

It wasn’t until the day was over that Yuri managed to find Otabek sulking towards his motorcycle. He rushed to him, leaving an excited babbling JJ behind.

“Are you ignoring me?” Yuri demanded tactfully the moment he caught up with the healer.

Otabek glanced at him. He rose an unimpressed brow down at him, but Yuri was set and just scowled back. He completely forgot about JJ until Otabek’s eyes flickered over his shoulder to where the other male was standing gawking at them.

“That’s just JJ,” Yuri said once he realized what he was staring at, “he’s an idiot.”

“He seems awfully fond of you,” Otabek noted dryly.

Yuri shrugged, looking away. He didn’t want to talk to Otabek about JJ. He didn’t even want Otabek to _know_ JJ.

“Like I said,” Yuri growled, “He’s an idiot.”

Otabek reached out to pat the top of his head. It was ridiculous and made him feel childish but it was the warmest sensation Yuri’s felt all day.

“I’d say you are too,” Otabek informed him with a knowing smirk, “in many ways.”

He stuffed his head in the helmet before Yuri got the chance to protest, swinging his leg over his motorcycle and turning it on to a low rumble. Yuri watched him drive off, JJ finding his courage to come stand at his side.

“What was that all about?” he asked.

Yuri glared up at him and started away. JJ was quick to follow, matching his step and seemingly determined to not allowing him to wonder too far away.

They didn’t speak of Otabek again, and when Yuri’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out to see Otabek had messaged him to tell him he made it back home safe JJ wisely kept his questions to himself. Silently, Yuri concluded that JJ wasn’t a _complete_ idiot after all.

{…}

Sara felt him before she saw him.

She wasn’t born a user like her twin, but Celestino still sent chills down her spine whenever they were in the same room together.

The flat she was staying in (a dirty, dusty place because handsome Russians weren’t offering her places to live in random coffee shops) was completely dark. She’d just returned home and hadn’t got the chance to try and see if the testy overhead lights wanted to work today.

Sara didn’t move towards the switch.

She dropped her bag at the foot of her door, ignoring the icy tendrils crawling up and down her spine. It was a familiar sensation, one she always dreaded but never ignored. One she couldn’t imagine if she had the misfortunate of being born a user.

“I’m honored,” she announced to the darkness, the door clicking shut behind her, “that you crawled from your little hole to visit my humble home.”

A little lamp beside her rotting chair clicked on, revealing an angular face and square chin. Long brown hair dangled over broad shoulders and he hadn’t bothered to pull it up. Sara took that as a positive sign. It meant this may actually be a social call.

She knew better, of course.

Celestino didn’t make social calls. That’s what he had her for.

“My dear child,” he greeted, light green eyes sparkling back at her like poison, “I grew worried. I thought something awful had happened to you when I stopped receiving your messages.”

Because she stopped sending messages. Something she could never dream of causing the man to visit her apartment.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, but didn’t shoulder the whole blame.

Celestino smiled back, cheerful always cheerful, as he rose to his feet and raised his hands out towards her. He looked like he wanted a hug but neither moved to close the distance. His arms lowered, face split in a beaming expression.

“Now child, no need for apologies,” he reassured, “Unless, of course, there is a need I am yet aware of.”

She met his gaze.

His face was a mask of serenity. Calm and at peace and almost happy. Everything about it screamed genuine but she knew better. She hadn’t always, but she did now. Now that it was too late. Even so, she refused to allow herself to fall into his trap.

So she remained where she stood and lied, “No. There is nothing I am aware of and you are not, at the very least.”

He frowned back, disappointed.

Sara knew better to think she could lie to him while he stood several feet away. Just like she knew he wasn’t going to call her out on it. Not at the moment at least.

“Unfortunate,” he said, “I was hoping for some good news.”

“And if I’d had bad news?”

He chuckled. It was bright, twinkled like glass, and it was no wonder she had once never doubted his authenticity. Now the noise made her feel cold and tense as she stood and waited.

_You’re not a user. You’re not a user. You’re not a user._

The reminder played on repeat in her head, and she tried ignoring it. It was her own voice. There was no need to listen to it if it was her own. Celestino pretended not to notice as he met her eyes.

“All news is good news,” he chuckled.

“Right,” she agreed; the word tasted like ash.

He smiled, a bright thing that- she noticed now- didn’t quite reach his eyes. He made a good impersonation of it however. Believable.

Then he frowned.

“I have a confession,” Celestino announced, “This was not a social call. Will you forgive me Sara? Will you forgive an old man?”

Sara met his gaze and suppressed a shiver. He wanted an answer. Worst, he _expected_ one and only a very certain one would suffice. She had never been very fond of puzzles, of games.

“Of course you are forgiven,” she recited obediently, “May I inquire why you’ve journeyed so far to see me?”

He beamed back at her. This time it was too real to be anything but. His arms reached out as if to touch her. She remained where she stood.

“You must never be afraid to talk to me, my child,” he reassured softly, fatherly, and a frown crossed his features as seemed to just think of something and asked, “Are you frightened of me? You break an old man’s heart.”

“I’m sorry,” she replied automatically, “Will you forgive a foolish child?”

“Forever and always, my child.”

Celestino closed the distance between them to finally draw her into his arms. She didn’t protest. She didn’t retaliate either. She just stood there, unmoving, and _finally_ he pulled away.

His smile dropped as he adopted a serious expression. It wasn’t quite a frown, but he’d dropped indifferent cheerfulness.

“I am here about our brother.”

Our brother. Not her brother. _Our_ brother. So not Michele but Yuuri. The realization sent a sour sort of dread to float in her stomach. Nothing ever good happened when Celestino wanted to speak about Yuuri.

“I’m certain you know where Yuuri lives,” Sara noted formally, “If not I’ll gladly give you his address.”

“No, no,” Celestino protested with a wave of his hands, “I know where he lives. Just like I know he has found himself two roommates, and you have none.”

She straightened her spine as she claimed, “I have no need for roommates. I only have you.”

His frown deepened.

She’d said the wrong thing.

“I thought we were past lying to one another,” he chided, and she swallowed thickly; her stomach churned and she felt cold and lightheaded.

It was a sensation only Celestino could bring out. Not even when she spoke with the Ice King, who’d looked at her with those icy blue eyes and made the air freeze. Not even when he had reached and turned the gun she held to cold and ice and crushed it under his fingers.

It was then she realized, looking in that face, why Celestino wanted the Ice King. It was also then she realized why Celestino would never get him.

“We are,” she reassured but it sounded weak even to her own ears, “It was never my intention to lie to you. Forgive me.”

Celestino gave her another smile as he said, “You are forgiven.”

He didn’t clarify. Normally Sara would be grateful, but she knew Celestino wasn’t going to leave until he said whatever he came to. That made his silence something worth fearing.

“What of Yuuri has brought you here?” she asked.

Her voice was no longer weak. Celestino wouldn’t have tolerated her if it was. Above all else, he despised weakness. It was one of the first things he purged from those beneath him. He noticed, sensed it, and he smiled.

“I fear for him,” Celestino confided, “Our brother has painted himself as a villain. He even has a little hero battling to stop him.”

“Ice King,” Sara said simply.

“Precisely,” Celestino nodded, “Our resident hero. You know how long I debated even coming to St. Petersburg. He’s very well-known, though unfortunately, no one knows the man under the mask, but alas I require something here. I thought it was a risk well taken.”

Sara swallowed and nodded. She knew better than to interrupt, even when he grew silent and his eyes went distant. So she stood and waited. Finally he found her again.

“I still believe this,” he told her, “Yuuri’s popularity is just a minor inconvenience. Fortunately, I have come up with a solution.”

Sara’s blood turned cold.

She said nothing, waiting.

He looked at her and demanded, “Did you get a name? Of the healer who brought Yuuri’s youngest roommate back from the precipice?”

“No.”

Celestino gave a remorseful sigh. It sounded genuine, real. Sara knew better. There was nothing _remorseful_ about Celestino Cialdini.

“Pity,” he sighed all the same, “I was rather hoping to not resort to this. You see, I’ve elected new friends in this never ending battle. Two of the most unique users I’ve ever met. _Bloodhounds_ in their own right. Do you know who of I’m speaking?”

She didn’t. Of course she didn’t. Celestino drew people to him like moths to a flame only for them to get trapped and left to burn over and over again. She shook her head. He smirked. A vicious cycle.

“Of course you don’t,” he said, “but you will come tomorrow.

He reached into his bag and pulled out four magnolia folders, dropping them on her counter. Sara risked a glance. Four folders, four names.

_Chulanont, Phichit_

_Crispino, Michele_

_Nikiforov, Victor_

_Plisetsky, Yuri_

Sara looked back up at Celestino. He was watching her expectantly, and she got the feeling that whatever was going to happen tomorrow she wanted nothing to do with. She said nothing more as he moved silently past her and out the door.

The sound reverberated around the small space, leaving her alone with the names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts again Monday (gross, right?) and as a result my time will be pressed. Unfortunately that means less time to write so the next couple of chapters are going to take longer than usual. This is, in no ways I know, an excuse and y'all all truly deserve better so I hope you can forgive me. I will try my best, and will attempt to keep the wait between cliffhangers to a minimum. Thank you all so much for the support you've shown so far and until next time (whenever that may be).


	16. Woes of the Youth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri should've asked what Celestino's plan was. He really should've.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took forever and a day but school is really starting to kick my butt (who are we kidding? It's always kicked my butt.) Anyways, thank you all for being patient and hope this was worth the wait.

It happened the next day at lunch.

Leo called Victor to tell him the shop was closed and that he hadn’t need to bother coming in. He’d frowned at the phone, asking several times if he was certain. Leo reassured him that it was, that they’d pay him for his inconvenience. That had been before he ever rolled out of bed.

No longer sleepy he crawled out and stumbled drowsily into the kitchen. Yuuri offered him a kind smile as he pressed a cup of coffee into his hands, explaining how Yuri had just left for school. Victor nodded into his cup and wasn’t aware of when Yuuri left for the rink.

He thinks he may have told Yuuri about the phone call- vaguely remembered Yuuri shrugging and telling him he was sure it was nothing. Victor hoped because he wanted so badly to believe him, yet there was this nagging feeling in his gut. Something was going to happen. Something very, very bad but nothing did all morning.

Then lunch came.

{…}

Sara was waiting for him when Yuuri arrived at work.

Yakov had to be there somewhere because his car was out front, but Yuuri didn’t see him. He just saw Sara standing by the ice rink like she had been waiting for him for hours despite the fact he’d just passed through and hadn’t spotted her.

“You look well,” he told her dryly but her violet eyes weren’t swimming with their usual foreplay.

She was dressed in simple jeans and shirt with a black jacket wrapped around her slim frame. Her hair was wild like she hadn’t bothered brushing it, and her makeup looked at least a day old. Yuuri acknowledged all of this in a fraction of a second.

“You haven’t slept,” he noted when she remained silent as his eyes focused on her hip and he added, “It’s making you sloppy. You’re not even carrying a gun.”

“I don’t need a gun with you,” she told him coldly and he understood.

Only one thing could get Sara so wound up that she’d willing skip hygiene. She seemed to sense his realization as she pulled out three folders from the bag strapped to her hip and tossed them down at his feet. He didn’t look. He already knew what they said.

Instead he fixed her with a chilling expression of his own and demanded, “Were those it?”

“There were four folders. The fourth one was for me,” she informed him before she dipped her head to the side and told him, “He sends his regards.”

“Impromptu visits never seemed like his style before,” Yuuri said, guts turning cold as his mind raced in trying to figure out what Celestino’s plan was.

“He said he came to orchestra in putting you in a better light. Said that however he was going to do it that it was going to happen today. Would you like to try and guess how?”

Yuuri forced his face and voice to remain impassive as he replied shortly, “No.”

There was a long pause where neither said anything. They just continued to stare, waiting for the other to break first. Yuuri had the advantage, at least, he had yet seen the folders. Sara’s eyes flickered down at the floor where they remained lying almost accusingly.

_You failed and now they will pay._

Yuuri looked down and though he’d been expecting it his gut still twisted uncomfortably at the sight waiting him. _Chulanont, Phichit. Nikiforov, Victor. Plisetsky, Yuri._

Yuuri forced himself to look up as he ground out the best he could, “This isn’t about me.”

“I’d imagine not,” Sara agreed, “You should’ve done what he asked. You should’ve given the healer’s name.”

“I can’t. I don’t know it,” Yuuri told her and that time he succeeded in keeping his voice a void of all emotion.

Yuuri didn’t know rather or not she believed him. He figured it probably didn’t matter. It wouldn’t help Michele either way, which was one of the reasons Yuuri never found fear in Sara’s presence. He knew she felt much the same way.

So he didn’t know if she knew he was lying only that she took a measured step forward and replied in a disappointed voice, “Pity we’re never the ones punished for our failures.”

Then she stepped past him and Yuuri’s eyes somehow found themselves back on the folders lying on the ground. He was quick to bend over and pick them up, moving back towards the changing rooms so he could stuff them in his bag.

Celestino in St. Petersburg. The end was only just beginning.

{…}

Yuri lasted until noon, when they had lunch, before anything happened. He hadn’t really been expecting anything so it’d come as a shock, but then he thought of how he should’ve known. He should’ve placed the pieces together and it was only by chance he’d been with Otabek and not JJ when it happened.

He founded Otabek, beaming brightly at the other male, as he relished in the freedom of being away from JJ’s scrutinizing stares. He was worried, apparently, and Yuri knew he couldn’t fault him in that. Not when he’d almost died, had died in JJ’s head.

Otabek had just stared back, eyebrow raised unimpressed. Yuri’s phone vibrated in his pocket, Victor claiming he was bored because he’d been told to skip work. Strange, certainly, but Victor couldn’t really get into anything if he spent the day in the apartment.

“You’re missing a shadow,” Otabek commented dryly, and Yuri frowned at the words.

Otabek and JJ weren’t really friends per say but they haven’t yet shown any signs of animosity to one another and never complained about being in the other’s company. If anything they seemed to enjoy excluding Yuri altogether as they spoke.

“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Yuri snapped, crossing his arms and glaring pointedly.

Otabek made no inclination of hearing him as he moved on. At least, that’s what Yuri was certain he was doing when the next moment was filled with _pain_.

It was strange- different from the burning he’d felt when the van exploded- and it was like all his senses clouded over as if they were stuffed with cotton. Yuri screamed, probably, but he couldn’t really hear anything except a sudden ringing in his ears so intense he thought for one blinding moment that he’d gone deaf. Then-

“Yuri!”

-Otabek’s face, Otabek’s voice, pulled him back. He blinked, surprised to find himself on the ground cradled in the healer’s arms. Otabek’s skin was waxy in appearance, eyes dull and filled with pain. Yuri figured he was probably the reason. The sudden blinding pain that’d overcame him so abruptly fading some.

Other students laid around them, withering as they clawed their own ways free from the numbing pain while everybody else stood staring dumbly. Yuri saw JJ and Isabella amongst them, moving to where he and Otabek sat.

“Yuri?” Otabek repeated, voice tinged with concern they didn’t have time for.

“We need to move,” Yuri grunted scrambling free and to shaky feet, “We need to-”

He crumpled back to his hands and knees. Isabella reached him before JJ, hefting him to his feet without saying a word. She allowed him to lean against her side, which was nice but unnecessary. He didn’t bother pushing her away, though, deciding instead to push forward- to move, to get away.

“Yuri?” JJ demanded, face drawn with panic as he took Yuri’s other side without a single glance at Isabella, “Yuri, what’s wrong?”

“They- we have to go,” Yuri grunted out thickly and they made it to the hall before the pain sent Yuri’s knees buckling out from underneath him.

This time hands kept him upright as the world tipped and tilted and turned suddenly dark. Voices echoed faintly around him, but the words were hard to make out until a piece of fabric balled up tightly and smelt like perfume was shoved in his mouth.

“What’s wrong with him?” JJ demanded, eyes wild but face calm, as he reached out to catch Yuri’s wrists in his hands to prevent him from removing the gag.

“It’s a user,” Isabella informed softly and though he’d asked JJ didn’t seem surprised.

“It’s only affecting non-users,” Otabek agreed, arms securing Yuri to his side firmly and his touch helped alleviate some of the pain.

His voice was daring; the words fact and nothing less. It made Yuri squirm, people’s identities coveted things in the world they live in and not something that could be outed so easily. He’d never even stopped to consider that there was a user that could out other users.

They were fucked.

Then he thought of Victor and his rage boiled over, giving his head some clarity. Drums were still pounding away inside his skull- loud and insistent- but they didn’t matter because Victor was a user and the worst thing that could ever happen to him was have his double life revealed like it was nothing.

Ignorant to his thoughts JJ demanded, “But why?”

“They’re looking for something,” Otabek replied smoothly and the rest of the pieces fell together and he gagged around the gag.

Three sets of eyes turned to him as he yanked the tie from his mouth to demand, “The next time I scream you have to pretend to be in pain.”

Isabella blinked and Otabek’s fingers tightened the slightest bit; JJ was the one who smiled grimly as he asked in a teasing tone, “You worried about us?”

“Shut up,” Yuri grunted or at least he tried to.

The pain returned and his vision went fuzzy as what little light the closet they were hiding in narrowed into a pinpoint as he gasped around the gag in his mouth. He was only vaguely aware of leaning into someone’s side as darkness rushed forward to consume him.

{…}

Yuri was ten when his parents died. He was younger when he’d fallen in love with the ice. It was the first real memory he had and he’d always silently figured that was why grandpa handed him off to Victor.

He remembered being young and tiny- uglier than the other kids- and sad in a way only a child who had no friends could be. His parents probably had noticed but never actively did anything about it. They were always busy, always had work, and Yuri had always tried to understand but he was so _little_.

It had been his grandpa’s idea to introduce the ice to him. He’d taken him to a class, hoping it’d give him a chance to socialize, and it had been the first time Yuri had ever felt beautiful. The first time he ever knew what happiness felt like, and he’d been overjoyed to tell his grandpa all about it.

Years later his parents died.

 _Why did they have to die?_ Nobody seemed capable of answering him. They just stared at him with sad eyes, murmuring empty words whenever Yuri cornered them but none of them compared to the ancient void that was in his grandpa’s eyes when he arrived at the police station.

Yuri didn’t understand a lot of what was going on, but he knew then that his grandpa needed him to be strong. A soldier and Yuri vowed to be that for him, even when he left him on a stranger’s doorstep with a promise to return.

Except he never did and Yuri had been convinced Victor was made of the cold and ice. It was obvious he hadn’t been welcomed, that the only reason Yuri had been allowed to stay was because he’d admired Yuri’s grandpa. It didn’t take Yuri long before he realized why.

Victor was a user.

More so than that, Victor hated the ice and Yuri remembered looking at him from the frozen pond not quite understanding. Victor was wearing a guarded expression, his smile looking pained and forced. It looked as if being near the stuff was causing him physical pain and it was then Yuri started to hate the ice as well.

Yuri hated the ice. He hated everything that caused Victor pain. He hated…

“ _Yuri!_ ”

He woke up curled into Otabek’s side. He blinked, headache pulsing behind his eyes. It throbbed, demanding attention but he ignored it as he stared at the three pairs of eyes watching him. They looked worried.

Yuri opened his mouth though he hadn’t been sure what was about to come out, which might have been why he heard himself say, “I hate the ice.”

He saw the look JJ and Isabella shared, and he had a good idea of what it meant. His brain still felt fuzzy, though, so he just blinked and shifted. He moved to sit up but Otabek’s fingers tightened around him. It wasn’t constricting but definitely meant to subdue.

Yuri managed to tip his head so he stared at the healer. Otabek looked almost calm. His eyes certainly were and he hadn’t yet shown any signs of panic. For whatever reason that sent chills down Yuri’s spine, but his head was spinning too much for him to bother figuring out why.

Otabek met his gaze- strong, unrelenting and serious- as he said simply, “No.”

Yuri obeyed. His entire body seemed to rebel against him, going lax at his side and it was so strange because the only other person he’s ever listened to was his grandpa and he barely _knew_ Otabek.

“Beka,” Yuri slurred before his eyes crossed and cheeks flamed in embarrassment; Otabek made no indication of having noticed but Isabella’s face had softened considerably and JJ sniggered.

“You need to stop exerting yourself so much,” Otabek explained like that had been what Yuri was asking but then something moved on the other side of the door and any thoughts of correcting him were lost to Yuri.

JJ rose to his feet, shoulders tense like he was expecting a fight. Isabella had made it to her knees, hand outstretched towards JJ but she never made contact. It almost looked like she was afraid of touching him, and Yuri felt sick at the thought of anyone being frightened of JJ.

“No,” he murmured though, later, he couldn’t say of what he had been referring to at the moment.

Maybe he was telling Otabek no, or maybe it was directed towards the fact Isabella and JJ were acting so strange, but later people would tell him it was because he must have known because he wasn’t crippled by sudden pain. Either way the word left his mouth the same time the door swung open and standing there staring back at them was the last person Yuri ever thought he’d see.

“Children,” the Masked Phantom said dumbly before he regained some of his composure and commanded as he stepped to the side, “Go. Now.”

_You have an archnemesis now? That’s a thing?_

Yuri didn’t get long to ponder it as the next moment he was on his feet reaching out to stop JJ from punching the villain in the face. Isabella was beside him and together they managed to jerk him back as Otabek was quick to insert himself between the two of them.

_He’s looking for the healer?_

_I won’t let him touch the healer. I owe them that and more._

“There’s no time for this,” the Masked Phantom huffed his annoyance, “You four need to hurry before they find you.”

JJ wasn’t done, though. He was tense under Yuri’s hold, and he could break free any moment to resume his attack but seemed content at keeping himself between them and the villain.

“The Ice King will stop you,” JJ snarled and Yuri’s heart momentarily stopped at the thought.

Not of Victor fighting the Masked Phantom because that was nothing new, but of Victor being there at that moment. Of Victor hearing the school has been attacked by users the second day Yuri returned after nearly dying the week prior.

Without a word, Yuri released JJ’s arm and sprinted out into the hall with the sudden need of finding Victor and keeping him from doing anything he’ll regret later. He heard his name echo behind him but it was just sound. Just noise, suppressed way down underneath the layers of panic.

_Don’t be stupid Victor. Please don’t._

A hand caught his bicep and lurched him backwards. He stumbled, caught off-guard, as he was pressed against a chest while the other hand clamped over his mouth. He tipped his head back, oddly calm, and saw a familiar chin.

_Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

“You shouldn’t run off like that, little boy,” the Ice King chided with a charismatic grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Yuri jerked himself free. Victor let him, which was odd. Under any other circumstance Victor would’ve never willing given him up. He wouldn’t- he would-

Yuri punched him in the face as the white static blowing in his ears pulled him under.

{…}

Yuri’s friends were livid, and now that he wasn’t there to hold any of them back JJ launched himself back at him. The girl moved to stop him but was too slow. JJ reared back, hand balled up in a tight fist. He was aiming at Yuuri’s face, obviously. He never made contact.

Yuuri sidestepped him easily, reaching out to grasp his wrist and JJ went limp in his hold, eyes going glassy. The girl cried out in protest, something dangerous flashing in her eyes, but Otabek caught her around the waist- eyes boring into Yuuri’s.

They were cold and accusing. Yuuri swallowed.

A long time ago- before Celestino ever entered his life- he’d made a vow to protect the strange friendless boy who’d just showed up with promises of saving his mom. He’d been so certain he could, and he’d always wanted a little brother.

He’d failed then, and he’s failing now.

“You three need to leave,” Yuuri informed them but he seemed to have been caught by Otabek’s eyes, “The exit is that way.”

He pointed in the direction of what he knew to be a door that led outside. None of them moved, though JJ did twitch under his hold.

“We’re not going anywhere without Yuri,” the girl protested.

Yuuri swallowed, wondering how he’d messed up this bad. He thought of the files Sara brought him, thought of Yuri’s beaming face from the other side of a black and white image. Static, surrounded by words, and he realized it hadn’t been a warning but a proclamation.

“I’ll get him,” Yuuri vowed, and Otabek stared back for a long moment before he released the girl and nodded.

“Make sure you do,” he said and the girl turned to gawk so he added, “JJ needs us more than Yuri at the moment.”

Isabella’s resolve melted as she stepped forward to claim JJ from Yuuri. Yuuri allowed it, watching as he practically clung to her. His knees seemed to wobble weakly and his entire frame drooped but she kept them both steady, fixating Yuuri with a hard glare that reminded him of Sara.

 _Everybody’s got it all wrong. It’s the women you need to fear_ , he thought but then they were gone, Otabek quick to follow.

He didn’t say anything on his way past. He didn’t need to. His silence spoke volumes.

Yuuri stood and watched the three of them make their way to the end of the hall before he turned and started down the opposite direction. His feet barely had a chance to start moving before he heard a soft yelp of pain.

It wasn’t the screaming of the people without any abilities, and it didn’t really sound like a fight but there was something in the voice that made Yuuri’s blood run cold. It sounded familiar, and that thought tickled the corners of his brain obnoxiously.

Then he found them- Yuri and the Ice King. Yuri was glaring, arms crossed and face set in a furious expression. The Ice King looked much more docile, repentant almost, and Yuuri stored that away for later. The hero’s nose was bleeding and his gloves weren’t helping stem the blood flow. It would’ve been comical if Yuri didn’t look like he was about to punch his head off.

Yuuri knew Yuri was naturally a violent person, but he’s come to discover that it was more self-defense than anything else and if he was attacking the Ice King than it wasn’t Yuri’s fault. The thought made Yuuri’s blood boil and he was moving before his brain could catch up with the rest of him.

He grabbed the Ice King’s wrist and practically growled, “Sleep.”

The Ice King’s blue eyes rolled in the back of his head as the hero collapsed. Yuri made a strange noise- caught somewhere between a low keening whine and sharp intake in protest as he rushed forward to catch the hero. Yuuri caught him around the waist and pulled them both backwards.

“What’re you doing? Let me go!” Yuri shouted as he tried lunging out from Yuuri’s hold.

Yuuri ignored him as he spun the youth around, latching onto Yuri’s shoulders and demanded, “What’d he do? Did he hurt you?”

Yuri blinked, frowned as his forehead creased, before realization dawned on him and he stilled. His pale eyes sparkled back up at him, clear and knowing and way too intelligent for someone his age.

“He would never do that,” Yuri said like he would the weather and it wouldn’t dawn on him until later that the teenager didn’t look at him like people usually did- a cross between fear and revulsion- but like he would Katsuki Yuuri.

And maybe that was why when Yuri asked, “Can you wake him up?” Yuuri just nodded and moved over to the fallen hero.

“Wake up,” Yuuri breathed, fingers pressed against the side of the hero’s neck.

Blue eyes fluttered open and the hero sucked in a deep gasp as he sat upright. Yuri was instantly at his side, slinging one of the hero’s arms over his shoulders and lifting him off the floor. He met Yuuri’s eyes and gave a small nod of thanks before whispering something to the hero.

The Ice King didn’t seem to hear him as he lunged towards Yuuri. Yuuri sidestepped him easily, swatting him away as Yuri shouted at him to stop. The hero ignored him, attempting to shove the youth behind him so he could stand between the kid and the villain.

“You attacked children!” the hero accused and the words hurt more than Yuuri thought they ever would.

“No!” Yuri shouted and he ducked out from under the hero’s arm to step in front of the hero, shoving at his chest with both hands.

The hero blinked down at him in shock. Yuuri mirrored the movement, not having anyone bold enough to stand up for him before- especially not to a superhero before. The hero just tilted his head to the side as he seemed to regard Yuuri seriously.

“We can discuss this later,” Yuuri said suddenly uncomfortable, “but we need to go.”

He turned to rush down the hallway when Yuri let out a pained scream. Yuuri spun to see the kid collapse into the hero’s arms, spun ice spreading across the floor as blue eyes met Yuuri’s. It was frightening, and unlike anything Yuuri’s ever encountered.

He instinctively stepped back as the air around them dropped. His breathe clouded in front of him in white wisps, and it was the first time Yuuri understood why St. Petersburg’s hero was so renowned and maybe Celestino finally met his match but none of that mattered while Yuri’s screams echoed inside his skull.

“Get him out of here,” Yuuri snapped, surprising himself at how strong his voice was.

The hero looked like he wanted to protest but thought better of it. He scooped Yuri into his arms and hurried down the hall. Yuuri watched them go, and when he turned to confront the people who made Yuri scream like that he felt his own face freeze over in his rage.

He rolled his shoulders and thought of how quickly Yuri accepted him, how he jumped to his defense, and when he saw the two users he recognized the look that filtered across their faces as fear.

{…}

There was a silent buzzing in the air that had Phichit on edge.

Most of his coworkers wore looks of crazed excitement and just the thought of that was enough to have his stomach rolling. Everybody else were better at hiding it, taking advantage of the moment to paint users in a negative light. But none of that compared to his boss.

They got the news of the attack at the school not long after it started. Nobody knew what was happening, and Phichit got into the habit of religiously checking his phone as he waited for Yuuri to text him back all the while praying his friend knew nothing of this. That he wasn’t involved.

So when he was informed the Masked Phantom was spotted his heart stopped, but if he was honest he wasn’t surprised. He’s never thought of Yuuri as a bad person- knew his heart was bigger than most people- and yet he tries so hard to prove Phichit wrong.

“Chulanont!” his boss barked suddenly and Phichit didn’t think his heart could crawl any higher in his throat.

He was hoping to stay forgotten for the day- knew his opinion would get him nowhere but in trouble. Unfortunately his boss was getting tired by the lack of stories Phichit has managed to get approved for publish. Now it was coming to haunt him.

“Chulanont!” his boss repeated and Phichit stood to catch his eye.

Predictably enough, the man looked upset. More so than that, he looked like he was searching for something to scream at.

“Do you need something sir?” Phichit inquired once the man had made his way over to where he was standing.

“I need to know why you’re the only person who hasn’t ran a story by me today,” the man barked, arms crossed and face narrowing into a dark glare.

Phichit just blinked up at the man, unsure of what to say. Afraid to say anything at all, though he knew saying nothing was the equivalent of a resignation letter to this man. All he could think about was Yuuri and all those children and how his friend could betray them all like this.

It wasn’t Yuuri. It couldn’t be.

Yet he knew it was. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he was certain he _knew_ and that thought scared him. Yuuri attacking children terrified him more than he could ever imagine. Not because he convinced himself that Yuuri wasn’t dangerous but because he never imagined his friend could attack children.

He thought of the little blonde roommate who gushed over his articles, of how Yuuri and everyone else had thought he was dead. He thought of how Yuuri told him how close he and Victor seemed to be, and Phichit tried to imagine Yuuri being responsible for hurting someone like that. A building of people like that.

He shivered, feeling cold.

“You going to say something or just stand there staring at me blankly?” his boss snapped, voice a cross between irate and annoyed.

“I’m sorry,” Phichit forced out before swallowing thickly, giving his head a small shake to try and clear it.

“I don’t pay you to be sorry,” his boss informed him but his voice was too upset to sound professional, “I pay you for stories.”

Phichit nodded like he understood, like the words made sense. They never did- haven’t since his boss told him he would only accept stories about how users were dangerous. That’s what the man was wanting now, and Phichit couldn’t bring it in himself to give him one.

“Use your words!” his boss screamed at him and Phichit swallowed as he refused to shrink backwards, unwilling to give the man the fear he craved so deeply.

“I don’t have any stories to write,” Phichit told him because there was nothing he could write that wouldn’t make the man any angrier than he already was, “I’m sorry sir.”

And for the first time since he’s started working here, Phichit made the man speechless. He could only stand there and watch as his boss’s face turned purple, temple vein throbbing. It was almost impressive if Phichit wasn’t scared of what was coming next.

“I think I misheard you boy,” his boss snarled.

Phichit met his eye, steeled his shoulders and declared bolder than he previously thought he was capable of, “You did not. I don’t have any stories for you.”

And just like that the purple turned bone white as his boss ground out, “Get your things and get out. You’re done here boy.”

Then he turned on his heel and stormed away.


	17. Who We Are

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Usually the quiet ones are the ones that need to be feared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has taken an embarrassingly long time (I'm so sorry) and I hope people still even remember this story.
> 
> Also sorry for the cliffhanger. I'm a bad person.

“Are you okay Vitya?” Yuri asked, concern coloring his voice.

Victor looked rough. His nose was swollen from where Yuri had punched him, and his skin was a waxy color from where the Masked Phantom had touched him. It would’ve been impressive if Yuri hadn’t felt his heart stop at the sight of Victor crumpling like a puppet who’d had his strings cut.

Victor’s blue eyes focused on him, frowning back up at him. They were still hard and cold- the way they get whenever Victor goes to that dark place he buried deep down inside of him- but they were softening and Victor was slowly returning back to them.

Victor crossed his arms and demanded, “I think I’m the one who’s supposed to ask that.”

Yuri shrugged.

He last remembered standing in the hallway with the two enemy users before pain had overcome him for what he had hoped to be the last time. Then he was outside, the first thing he saw being the dark look on Victor’s face. It would’ve been terrifying if he hadn’t woken up so cold.

So naturally the first thing out of his mouth was, “You look upset.”

Victor had seemed to appreciate that. He released his hold at least, allowing Yuri enough freedom to be knocked over by JJ as the older boy engulfed him in a tight hug. Isabella swooping down next to him, warm hands gripping the back of his neck and shoulders.

JJ had been foolish enough to attack the Masked Phantom and consequently been whammed. Yuri was still foggy on the details, but he knew the villain was an empath and that made emotions his greatest weapon. Unfortunately for everybody else.

Both JJ and Victor had recovered, though, and the process was rather quick. Yuri wasn’t so lucky. The strain of whatever had happened to him lingered so Victor had taken him back to the apartment as soon as he’d been approved to leave. Victor sat him down on the couch, draped a cover around his shoulders like he was in shock or something and commanded Makkachin to keep him company.

It was then they were finally alone so Yuri could make sure Victor was okay. Victor crossed his arms and frowned back. That was fine. Yuri could handle Victor.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty?” Victor asked after a long pause of Yuri doing nothing except stare at Victor.

Yuri pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders as he admitted, “I’m not in the mood for anything cold right now.”

Victor’s hands curled into tight fists as if he could contain the cold within him. He tried for discreet but Yuri saw and despite himself he shivered. The cold hasn’t stopped following Victor like a heavy cloud, and Yuri wasn’t stupid enough to convince himself that had nothing to do with him.

“Sorry,” Yuri murmured softly, mostly into the blanket.

He kept his eyes drawn downward so he missed Victor’s expression. Victor in turn gave a soft sigh as he moved over to sit down beside Yuri. Yuri kept his eyes downcast even as Victor pulled him into a warm embrace.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Victor reassured in his blonde hair, “I’m just happy you’re alright.”

Yuri nodded before pulling away and replied simply, “Of course idiot.”

And just like that, the rest of the ice melted from Victor’s eyes. They grew a soft blue, gentle and caring and everything that was Victor. Yuri felt his heart lift some, knowing he’d brought Victor back from the dark place inside himself.

Victor didn’t seem to notice as he reached over to move a strand of blonde hair out from his eyes and said in a near whisper, “What would I ever do if something happened to you?”

Yuri didn’t reply. Yuuri choosing that moment to walk in saving him from replying.

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed upon seeing him, rising to his feet with a worried expression marring his otherwise handsome features.

Yuri turned to regard the other male. He was paler than usual with dark charcoal smudges underneath his usually bright eyes. Yuuri gave them both a relieved smile upon seeing them but that did little to balance Victor’s concerned face. Yuri wasn’t all that surprised by how awful the Japanese man looked considering the day they all had.

“ _Victor_ ,” Yuuri breathed a split second before Victor engulfed him in a tight hug.

“Yakov said you weren’t at work. I was worried,” Victor admitted softly- something, Yuri suspected, he wasn’t meant to hear.

Yuuri buried his face in the crook of Victor’s shoulder as he whispered a soft apology. That time Yuri didn’t hear what was said, attention already snatched by the flash of red in the hallway. Then Mila was crashing into the apartment with a panicked expression.

“Yuri!” she exclaimed and it was one of those rare times she sounded like she held no control of her emotions.

Yuri wasn’t even surprised by how hard she hit him in a hug, or how tight she squeezed him. He felt like his insides were squished together in the most uncomfortable way, and he let out an undignified squeak. Fortunately Victor was there to pick up on it.

“He’s alright Mila,” he reassured softly, hand on her shoulder.

She shook her head and denied, “No. This should’ve never happened. I can’t believe the Masked Phantom would go after children.”

The dark look returned to Victor’s eyes and over his shoulder Yuri caught the other Yuuri’s slight flinch, like the words physically caused him pain.

“It wasn’t the Masked Phantom,” Yuri protested because he was the only one in the room who could without sounding suspicious, “It was someone else. Two people else. Leo and Seung-gil.”

The people who gave Victor a job. The people who had been around Victor for the better part of the past couple of weeks. The thought alone was enough to make Yuri cold again.

Mila didn’t look impressed. Yuri matched her expression.

“Regardless, I’m fine so you can go back to doing whatever you do here,” Yuri promised, stretching his arms at his sides as if to say ‘see for yourself.’

Mila’s eyes narrowed at the cheekiness of Yuri’s voice as she said dryly, “I’m done for the day, actually.”

“Then perhaps Victor can walk you home,” Yuri suggested turning a knowing look towards Victor, who could be as protective as Mila as he was of Yuri.

Victor glared back, recent events too fresh for the idea to seem even remotely appealing.

“That’s a great idea,” Yuuri chirped up from the background as he moved forward to add, “I’ll go too. You know, for safety in numbers.”

“ _Yuri_ ,” Victor protested instead.

“I’ll be fine,” Yuri brushed off, “I’ll lock the door and everything.”

Victor and Mila still looked uncertain but, with one good push from Yuri, they were bounding out the door. Yuuri offered him a small smile in return but Yuri pretended he didn’t see as he moved back to his spot on the couch.

He needed to think, alone and with no hovering Victors. Unfortunately the silence lasted for all of ten minutes before someone was desperately banging against the door.

Yuri growled lowly in the back of his throat, annoyed, but moved to answer it anyways. Victor would kill him if he ever found out but at the moment all Yuri could think was what-if someone he cared was on the other side of the door.

It was Phichit, and he looked rough.

“Is Yuuri here?” he demanded instantly, voice rough and eyes puffy from where Yuri suspected he’d been crying.

Yuri leaned against the door and said simply, “No.”

“I’m sorry,” Phichit apologized wringing his wrists, “I didn’t know where else to go. I-I didn’t know who else to talk to.”

Yuri scrunched his face together as he demanded, “Did something happen?”

Phichit hugged himself tightly as he admitted in a low self-deprecating tone, “I got fired because I wouldn’t say the Masked Phantom attacked that school today.”

And Yuri wasn’t sure why he said it, only that it had come out so naturally. Like some inner instinct told him that it was okay.

“Because Yuuri is your friend.”

Phichit’s eyes widened and if Yuri hadn’t already known Yuuri was the Masked Phantom then he would now. Though, to Phichit’s credit, he recovered quickly and took Yuri’s shoulders and forced him backwards into the apartment. The door closed with an ominous click.

“How do you know that?” Phichit demanded, sounding angry, “Who have you told?”

“Relax,” Yuri snapped more annoyed than anything else, “I haven’t told anyone just like I know you haven’t told anyone you know who the Ice King is.”

Phichit turned red with embarrassment as he asked, “How long have you known?”

Yuri brushed Phichit’s hands off him so he could cross his arms and say with as much power as he held, “Which part? The Masked Phantom I guessed not long after he moved in but wasn’t sure until a couple of days ago. You I knew since we met.”

Phichit choked on a laugh, which was a good look for him, as he murmured, “You are perhaps the most dangerous person I’ve ever met Yuri Plisetsky. Do um… either Victor or Yuuri know? About each other?”

“Those two clueless idiots?” Yuri demanded, “No and I haven’t told Yuuri I know either. I am curious on how you figured it out though?”

Phichit adopted an almost abash expression as he asked, “How many silver haired people do you know living in St. Petersburg? How did you…?”

“It’s really hard to hide secret identities to the person who does all the laundry,” Yuri explained and Phichit let out a breathy laugh once more.

“You’re far more perceptive than you let on,” Phichit noted before adapting a small frown and added, “I’m usually much better at picking up on things like this.”

Yuri narrowed his eyes as he growled, “You were an unknown threat to Vitya. I had to see where your loyalties lie.”

Phichit’s eyebrow rose at the barely-contained protective fury swirling around inside the small child before him. It was amazing, just how intimidating the youth could become when it involved Victor. It almost made him wonder who the real threat was: the Ice King or Yuri Plisetsky.

He rose his hands out at his sides as he inquired, “And now?”

Yuri’s face softened considerably as he admitted lowly, “Anyone as loyal to that room-stealing pig is too stupid to be a threat.”

Phichit knew he should’ve felt even a little bit offended. After all, Yuri had just insulted him but the way it came out- the way he became all soft and genuine- made Phichit’s smile go fond. It was adorable how bashful Yuri was whenever he thought he was being nice.

A thought seemed to suddenly occur to Yuri as his head snapped up and he demanded, “You said you lost your job.”

A stone sank in Phichit’s stomach.

He shouldn’t burden Yuri with such problems. He’d only come at all because he didn’t have any other friends in St. Petersburg except Yuuri, and when he’d seen that the other male wasn’t there he panicked and it all came out.

“You shouldn’t-”

“What’re you going to do?” Yuri interrupted, sounding worried.

Phichit’s shoulders deflated as he admitted, “I don’t know. They were the ones paying rent and now I’m-”

The words stuck at the edges of his throat. Rent was coming up and now he was without a job and Russia had always been big but Phichit had never felt _small_ inside it until just now. He wasn’t even sure he knew anyone in Russia except for those he met through Yuuri.

And that was just one problem.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now that I can’t write,” Phichit admitted, “I was the only one who tried to write the truth- not that basis crap they keep posting everywhere. Yuuri will-”

“You don’t need a large company to write stories,” Yuri interrupted suddenly, sounding angry and when Phichit glanced up he looked angry as well, “You just need the belief that you should. You just need to _want_ to write what no one else will.”

Phichit blinked in surprise as he asked, “You mean like a blog?”

Yuri shrugged and he was still small and thin but he now looked impossibly old and wise- a survivor through unspeakable horrors. It made Phichit sick at the stomach as he wondered at just what the kid has come from.

The knock at the door startled them both. Phichit jumped, heart still racing as he glanced unsurely at the object in question. Makkachin never barked, though, looked more bored than anything else.

“Oh what is it now?” Yuri demanded before switching to something in Russian.

Phichit didn’t understand him but he imagined it was neither polite nor kind. For whatever reason that thought brought another fond smile to his face.

Yuri opened the door, revealing an unfamiliar man. Phichit shifted uncomfortably, staring at the man unsurely. He was tall with brown and blonde hair in a strange undercut and he looked equal parts old and youthful. He didn’t look all that dangerous but Phichit knew better than to believe everything he could see.

The man offered a gentle smile as he inquired, “Do you kiss Victor with that mouth _Mon chaton_?”

“I am _not_ a kitten,” Yuri growled, “and I am certainly not _your_ kitten, and I wouldn’t kiss Victor for all the money in the world. Get your head out of your ass and think with your upstairs brain for once Chris.”

Chris just laughed, amused.

Phichit found he was too, once the initial threat of an unknown dissipated. Hazel eyes found him and it was Chris’s turn to tense unsurely. Yuri probably noticed but he made no indication that he did as he hurried Chris inside and shut the door behind him.

“Making new friends Yurochka?” Chris asked in a tone that implied that was a very un-Yuri thing to do.

“He’s friends with the other Yuuri,” Yuri explained, “He got fired today and came to cry about it but Yuuri had already left to walk Mila home.”

Chris’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Yuuri, and Phichit figured he had probably figured out Masked Phantom’s secret identity as well. At this point Phichit wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew who the villain was underneath the mask and they all just politely pretended not to.

“I hope you’re not here on _business_ Chris,” Yuri snapped, “It would be difficult to arrest someone who’d done nothing wrong.”

That surprised Phichit. From Chris’s expression, it did him as well.

“You’re an officer?” Phichit inquired curiously and Chris met his gaze with that expression that was half friendly and half distrusting.

“No.”

“He works for some secret government facility that devote themselves to taking down users. I imagine he’s here to take Yuuri because of the attack on school today,” Yuri explained, and Phichit would’ve been surprised if there was a secret he didn’t know.

Chris blinked, turning towards the youth with an open mouth. Yuri just shrugged.

“Victor had always seemed quite attached to you. Of course I was going to look into you and the people you work with,” Yuri explained like it was obvious before he added with a narrowed expression, “I almost snapped your knees when I placed the pieces together.”

Chris chuckled softly. Phichit silently worried to the person who’d come along with less than pure intentions towards Victor.

“I’m guessing that means you both have placed the pieces together then,” Chris noted and Yuri gave him a nod of acknowledgement; Chris ran a hand through his hair as he marveled, “We could use minds like you two at work. It took us several weeks before we fit everything together.”

Yuri crossed his arms and proclaimed boldly, “That’s because you’re an idiot.”

Chris shrugged, offering Phichit a look as if to say ‘ _what’re you going to do?_ ’ Phichit was still trying to picture just what Yuri would do to someone who threatened Victor.

“Phichit got fired today,” Yuri chimed in evidently not liking the look Chris was giving Phichit, “He refused to write about how users were all evil.”

Chris hummed. Phichit blushed. He wasn’t sure he would’ve been so bold if the user hadn’t been Yuuri, but he wasn’t comfortable enough to correct him.

“You sound like a good man,” Chris offered when no one else spoke, “I’m glad Yuuri has such loyal friends.”

“Is there a god reason either one of you is still here?” Yuri demanded suddenly, “Because personally I believe you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Chris’s smile turned thin with impatience. Phichit figured he was probably accustomed to getting lip from the blonde, which perhaps was the only reason he hadn’t snapped yet.

“I mean if you let anyone in your home,” Chris started and Yuri’s eyes narrowed threateningly- though he was considerably less intimidating now.

“Thank you for talking with me,” Phichit interrupted, “Can you please tell Yuuri to call me when he gets the chance. I really need to talk to him.”

“You’re going to walk out there alone?” Chris inquired suddenly looking and sounding worried, “St. Petersburg has gotten considerably more dangerous lately.”

“You should walk him home then Chris,” Yuri announced with a strange gleam in his eyes, “or better yet, walk him to your home because Phichit is out of a job.”

“ _Yuri_ ,” Chris growled warningly.

“No. No. I really can’t impose,” Phichit protested at the same time.

Yuri shrugged, uncaring, as he walked over to the door and said, “I don’t really care where you go as long as it’s not here.”

Chris sighed, seemingly sensed the battle he was losing. He turned to Phichit and gave him a small ‘children, can’t live with them, can’t live without them’ shrug before turning towards the door. Phichit followed him out and wasn’t even surprised by how quickly Yuri slammed the door behind them.

“He’s trying to set us up,” Chris admitted as they walked down the hall together and Phichit stopped as his mind faltered and sputtered.

He felt his face turn bright red as he stammered, “I don’t… I’m not. I-”

Chris chuckled softly, “Not like that. As roommates. He’s hoping we’ll learn to the see the good in Victor and Yuuri through each other. That must mean he’s grown quite attached to both of them.”

Phichit liked to think he was always attached to Victor, but the thought of him caring that much about Yuuri sent warmth through his veins. Chris shook his head though he was smiling so Phichit figured he was thinking along the same lines as Phichit.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter now,” he admitted softly, “Come on Mister Phichit. I’ll buy you a coffee.”

{…}

Victor was silent- has been that way since leaving the apartment. Yuuri figured he probably was responsible for that as he’d been so eager at the time to coerce him out of the apartment. Not he wish he hadn’t even bothered opening his dumb mouth.

The walk to Mila’s place was done in sullen nothing and the same went for the walk back. Yuuri just shoved his hands in his pocket and cursed himself for being an idiot yet again. He was just tired of being the Masked Phantom and whenever he was with Victor it was almost like he could forget that part of himself.

_Ridiculous…_

It didn’t dawn on Yuuri until they arrived back at the apartment to find Yuri on the couch with Makkachin looking bored and fine did Yuuri realize Victor was actually afraid something was going to happen to the youth while they were gone.

“ _Kitten!_ ” Victor called out in Russian, evidently forgetting himself.

 _Kitten_ , it seemed almost fitting for the small youth who suddenly looked appalled at being called such a thing. Victor, of course, didn’t care as he practically threw himself at the youth and enveloped him in a tight hug.

Yuuri moved past them both to get to the kitchen. Behind him he could hear Yuri’s soft squawks of protest, and it was the first time Yuuri allowed himself to believe that they were going to be okay.

“Any special requests for dinner?” Yuuri inquired because Victor looked moments from suffocating Yuri and Yuri was still far too pale for Yuuri’s comfort.

Both Russians turned to stare at him dumbly. Yuuri couldn’t help but laugh.

“What’re you laughing at piggy?” Yuri demanded back pressed against the cushions with Victor on top of him; he had to tilt to his head back so he could regard Yuuri upside down.

He was frowning in that way that didn’t quite reach his eyes so Yuuri found the words didn’t sting. Victor, who was practically straddling Yuri’s thin hips and arms wrapped tightly around narrow shoulders, frowned down at the youth.

“Yuri,” he chided but Yuuri interrupted before he could say much else.

“I was just thinking how much you two look alike,” Yuuri said, “Even though I know you two are not related by blood.”

A pause.

“I do _not_ have a big forehead,” Yuri announced and this time Yuuri had to hide a chuckle behind his hand because Victor looked absolutely scandalized.

“Yuri. Your words hurt. I can’t possibly go on any longer,” Victor cried dramatically flopping on top of Yuri and practically squishing him into the couch.

“Victor!” Yuri cried but his voice was muffled, “I can’t breathe. Get your fat ass off.”

“I can’t! My forehead is weighing my entire body down!” Victor replied and it was so childish and Victor was a grown man and the whole thing was ridiculous but Yuuri felt his heart soften at the sight.

Yuri yelled some rather rude words in Russian (Yuuri can only assume they were rude, of course) making Victor only laugh harder. It was obvious to see it was a battle Yuri was losing, but there was some color in face now and Victor no longer looked haunted and, maybe, everything really would be fine.

{…}

People were predictable creatures.

Simple and careless and _selfish_. Their selfishness would always prove to be their downfall, dangling from them like strings on a puppet. A puppet meant to be manipulated for his will and his will alone, and no one is strong enough to tell him no much less _stop_ him.

“Can I get you a refill?”

Celestino glanced up from his phone to stare at the waitress. She was young and perky- skin a caramel brown and eyes a blue so bright and vivid they could’ve passed as purple. In a strange way, she reminded him of Sara. The thought put a smile on his face.

People were so very simple, curious in that way they all think they are different when in actuality they are the same. Every single one of them, user or no, are the same.

“No thank you darling,” he responded painfully polite, smile hurting his face.

She blushed, skin turning a nice rosy color. She lingered a second too long before finally getting the hint and walking away. Celestino felt his smile immediately drop from his face as he returned to the article pulled up on his phone.

It showed a school, several kids pale and dull eyed from shock standing in front. Their uniforms were rumpled and untucked, thick blankets draped around their shoulders. Adults huddled around them but most were looking up at the building.

Not long after Celestino sent in Leo and Seung-gil under the premise of recruiting more users for his cause, Yuuri arrived as predictable as ever. Although him seeking out his little roommate was an unpleasant turn of events but not surprising. He’s always had a soft heart.

Celestino contemplated punishing him for it, but he found the Ice King- who still alludes him which frustrates him enough that he’s willing to forgive Yuuri.

Of everybody in this world, of all users Celestino has come across, the Ice King was the most puzzling and he’s proved to be a bigger problem than anticipated. Celestino knew he needed to gain him under control before anything else, but he was allusive.

Allusive and a major pain-in-the-ass.

Celestino shut his phone off and set it on the table. One thing was certain, Celestino needed to deal with the little Ice King before he could continue anymore and he knew just how to do it.

Users- like people- were so very predictable.


	18. Don't Cry, Little Children

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We call everything on the ice, love.

Predictably enough, school was shut down for the safety of the students. Victor knew that to be a lie, knew they were just backtracking and trying to figure how they let all those users slip by them, but he was grateful all the same.

Yuri wasn’t a user, and nobody knew who Victor was so there was no reason for anybody to look into them and Yuri really needed a few days to recover despite always insisting he didn’t. He was still so very pale, though, and tired easier than he should. He hid it well, despite everything, and Victor wasn’t sure how they could find themselves in a world where a child was required to act so strong.

_“This is Victor. He’s going to take care of you from now on.”_

_“You’ll come back for me soon though, right?”_

_“Soon.”_

Victor’s eyes shut, shunning the memory. He wasn’t sure why he was remembering it, but it left an acidic taste in his mouth. Not because an impossibly small Yuri had been left at his doorstep without any indication as to why, but because he knew when the day came Yuri’s grandfather returned for him would be the day Yuri left him, and he wasn’t yet strong enough.

“Victor, you’re crying!”

The voice startled him as much as the hand latching onto his forearm. He spun, blue eyes widened with surprise, and he caught sight of Yuuri’s worried face. His lips were puckered in a way that could only be described as adorable, and his eyebrows were crinkled together.

Something inside Victor’s chest loosened. Yuuri’s presence always had a calming effect in ways he couldn’t quite figure out himself.

“It’s nothing,” Victor reassured, thin smile stretching across his face caught between forced and genuine, “I’m fine. It’s nothing.”

And because Yuuri didn’t look quite ready to believe him, he reached up and wiped the wet streaks away. Yuuri’s face was still dark, eyes cloudy and unreadable, but he let the matter go as he released Victor’s arm.

Instead his eyes shifted towards the bedroom as he inquired, “Is Yuri-?”

“Still sleeping. Yes,” Victor said, and Yuuri nodded.

Yuuri rose to his feet, moving away from Victor and the couch. Victor watched him walk into the kitchen pulling out pots and pans to prepare for breakfast, his thoughts pulling him back to dark places. He ignored them, rolling off the couch and rising to his feet.

Yuuri’s eyes flickered in his direction at the movement, but he said nothing. Probably because he thought it wasn’t his place- that he was just an outsider and he’d already encroached so much- and some part of Victor yearned to reach out and reassure him that wasn’t true. That Yuuri belonged there as much as them.

Victor could only afford to worry about one Yuri at a time, however.

He walked past the small kitchen and into his bedroom. Makkachin was curled up at the end of his bed, chest heaving up and down in small content snores. The corners of Victor’s mouth tugged upwards at the sight even as his eyes flickered to the small lump buried under the covers.

The lump was small, even for Yuri, which meant he was probably curled inwards. He’d managed to tug the covers all the way to his head, only stray strands of blonde poking out. Victor’s heart ached, the pain of Yuri looking so small and vulnerable making him sick.

He said nothing as he moved to take his spot next to the youth. Yuri gave a soft groan in acknowledgement as the mattress shifted and dipped but otherwise didn’t move.

Victor leaned against the headboard, eyes staring unseeingly in front of him as he reached out to card blonde hair through his fingers; he whispered, “Here I was thinking sleeping in was my thing.”

Yuri gave a small huff underneath the covers. Victor resisted the urge to yank them off him so he could wrap him in a hug and never again release him from his hold. That would only succeed in annoying Yuri, though, and Victor figured the youth had enough annoyances in his life currently.

“I suppose I’ll let it pass,” Victor continued trying to keep his voice lifted with humor he didn’t feel, “Just this once.”

Yuri shifted, pulling away from his hand. Victor let him, chest constricting tightly. He watched as the lump curled tighter into a ball, the figure underneath quivering ever so slightly.

“I’m sorry about your job,” Yuri murmured, voice low and sad and _ancient_ and, honestly, Victor hadn’t even thought about his job or the implications of how what happened at the school affected him.

All he saw when he thought back to it was Yuri- alone and wild eyed- collapse suddenly in his arms as a pained scream tore through whatever reserve Victor had inside him. Young and small and fragile, and Yuri broke because Victor hadn’t done his job. He hadn’t protected him.

“Yuri I-” his voice got choked off and he suddenly felt like he had that day Nikolai first dropped Yuri off on his doorstep: alone and way out of his depth.

The covers shifted so bright green eyes stared back at him. They didn’t look broken but instead hardened by a resolve no child should face, and Yuri had always been strong but this time was different. This wasn’t Yuri being strong because of the world they lived in or the choices he’s made. This was Yuri being strong because Victor was weak and one of them needed to be.

Victor felt his tears slip down his face shamefully. He wanted to speak, to find the words to explain himself, but nothing came out.

The covers moved and Yuri scrambled upwards, wrapping Victor in a hug he didn’t return. He didn’t want Yuri’s comfort, didn’t want Yuri’s strength. He didn’t want that Yuri always had to be the one who pushed everything back and reassured Victor everything was okay. Damn it all, Victor didn’t want-

Yuri sniffed.

His mind halted so abruptly Victor felt like he left something behind. He blinked, slow and dumb, as he glanced down at the blonde head buried in his chest. The small frame was shaking, Yuri’s hands gripping Victor’s shirt so tight his fists had gone bone white and that still wasn’t enough to still them.

Yuri had finally broken, and Victor had been the one to do it.

Victor’s arms moved on his own violation, wrapping around the thin chest and squeezing tightly. Yuri made no indication that he felt it, that he acknowledged it. He just continued to cry silently in the front of Victor’s shirt.

“ _Yura_ ,” Victor breathed because the silence was stifling.

Yuri shook his head. Victor got the message and just held the boy tighter, burrowing his nose in pale hair and willing himself to be strong. His face was still wet with tears, but he no longer felt overwhelming sadness and despair. He felt tired and, strangely enough, at peace.

He’s unsure how long they sat like that, with him on his knees and Yuri practically crumpled in his arms like a discarded doll. He’s unsure when Yuri’s body slowly stopped shaking or when his tears went dry. All he knew was the moment Yuri finally moved, pulling away but keeping his hands fisted so tightly around his shirt.

His face was flushed, eyes bloodshot and he looked ashamed. A sob broke free from Victor’s throat as he pulled Yuri back to him, pressing him against his chest and just holding him.

“ _Little kitten_ ,” he breathed though he wasn’t sure if it was in Russian or English, “it’s okay to cry. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

Yuri sniffled and didn’t pull away. Victor figured that meant he believed him.

{…}

“Grab your things,” Victor announced when he finally reemerged from his room, Yuri behind him with his head bowed and shoulders slumped inwards, “We’re going to the ice rink.”

The proclamation shocked him as much as the fact Victor’s eyes held no room for argument. Yuuri could only nod, taken aback by the force inside Victor’s blue eyes. He dumped the water he’d been boiling for almost an hour down the sink and managed to say something about getting his stuff before disappearing into his room.

When he returned Victor was wearing a tan coat, skater’s bag slung over his shoulder. Yuri was at his side, scarf wrapped securely around his neck and face still pale and eyes taking a red sheen around the edges. Yuuri didn’t have to guess what that meant.

“Victor?” Yuuri asked but Victor just gave him a _look_ and he bit back down on his lip, gnawing on it nervously.

They moved as one, out the door and down the street and Yuuri was grateful when they finally made it to the rink. It was surprisingly empty and Yuuri turned to ask Victor about it when he realized he was alone. Both the Russians had moved to one of the benches dotting the outside of the rink, and Victor had sat Yuri down and was speaking to him in low Russian.

Yuuri picked out only a few words like kitten’ and ‘strong’ and ‘ice’ and if he wanted he probably could’ve more but he felt like he was intruding so instead he settled himself to changing into his skates, the first one making it on the ice.

Yuri soon followed, well-balanced and surprisingly graceful. It clearly wasn’t his first time on the ice, but it was obvious he hadn’t returned to it in some time. He was quick to adapt back to it though, moving with purpose and a resolve to not be the first to fall on the ice.

Yuuri grinned and waved, causing Yuri’s cheeks to flare bright red. Still the teen skated over to him and they moved through some of the more basic movements as Yuri tried regaining his grasp on the ice. It was like pulling on an old glove and, slowly, he grew more confident and dared to pull bolder stunts.

Victor’s sudden laugh surprised them both.

Yuuri startled but Yuri, who had been in the middle of a more advanced jump, missed his footing and crashed onto his side. He growled but allowed Yuuri to pull him up and reassured he was fine before he turned to release that anger onto Victor.

It died as quickly as it came.

Victor was standing several feet away. He wasn’t even doing anything, just _standing_ there but something about it felt different. The ice clearly belonged to Victor, and everybody else was just visiting and Yuuri’s heart lurched. How could he ever be so foolish as to think Victor was an amateur?

Victor was smiling, blue eyes bright and clear, though he did take a worried look when Yuri had fallen. He started to move- as natural and graceful as walking- to where Yuri stood as wide-eyed and shocked as Yuuri felt.

Yuuri felt better knowing Yuri felt it too, though he imagined the sudden pounding in his ears and sweatiness in his palms were exclusive to him. Victor was- what, exactly, on the ice? Stunning? Beautiful? How could him just slowing to a stop to reassure himself that Yuri was fine make Yuuri’s blood dance as it was now. He felt dizzy and weak and any moment his legs were going to give out underneath him.

_He is pretty fetching, I’ll give you that._

A strong possessive urge to reach through the void and strangle the voice suddenly overcame him. He knew it was ridiculous because Victor wasn’t his to get possessive over, but something inside of him was there and willing and he wanted nothing more than to reach over and claim Victor as his own.

“Yuuri?”

He startled at Victor’s voice, at Victor’s impossibly blue eyes suddenly _so close- too close- he couldn’t breathe._

“Yuuri!” Victor exclaimed and reason trickled back into Yuuri’s senses.

“I’m fine,” he managed out as he blinked and tried focusing anywhere but Victor’s perfect lips or his too-blue eyes or his shimmering silver hair.

Victor beamed, relieved, and he was too gorgeous all of a sudden. Yuuri’s lived in this man’s home for the better part of the month and, though he’s always admired Victor’s beauty, it suddenly became too apparent and too soon.

“I’m glad!” Victor chirped even as Yuuri ducked around him so he could stand beside Yuri, who was still staring at Victor like he needed something from him.

Victor spun after him, frown settling on his expression but even that was more pouty than upset and Yuuri had a strong urge to go over and-

_What? You want him so bad, claim him. Quit being spineless about it._

Yuuri ignored the voice as he bumped Yuri’s shoulder, silently begging for him to start a diversion. Anything, really. Yuri blinked and rather or not he caught Yuuri’s intent he listened.

He crossed his arms and puffed out his cheeks as he announced brazenly, “I think you owe me a performance.”

Victor smiled, and has his teeth always been that white, as he agreed, “Of course. Of course. Now please forgive me, I am a bit rusty.”

Yuuri wasn’t sure Victor could do anything and be rusty. Especially not when he started to move towards the center of the ice. He stopped, hands closed near his chest and head bowed and Yuuri could almost picture it.

Victor dressed in spandex with the spotlight beaming at him, everybody in attendance holding their breath because Victor on the ice demanded attention without doing anything. It was just like something inside you _knew_ and your body momentarily forgot how to function.

And then Victor moved and everything went with him. Music- nonexistent but still so faint- echoed inside Yuuri’s skull, buzzing as it traced over Victor’s movements. When he rose, it rose, when he fell it copied in perfect sync.

Yuuri glanced over at Yuri, expecting him to be anything except staring wide-eyed and entranced. Then his eyes shifted back over to Victor and he remembered that day Yuri ran all the way to the rink despite still recovering, and suddenly his reason made sense.

He wanted to see Victor and not how Victor currently is but how he once was, when he didn’t shied away from the ice, but this was different. This wasn’t an older version of Victor- it was a completed version and perhaps it was the first time Yuuri ever truly saw the man.

Then Victor stopped and the music ended, and Yuuri remembered how to breathe.

Blue eyes found them and he didn’t even look flushed. Yuuri just witnessed the man perform things he would never dare on the ice, and he didn’t even look tired.

“Yuuri?” Victor asked, sounding worried.

Yuuri reached up to his face because it felt wet, strangely enough. Yuri was staring at him now, unsure and skittish. Yuri should never be skittish, but then Victor was moving towards them and Yuuri’s brain forgot how to work.

He met Victor halfway and whispered, “Be my coach.”

And, to his surprise, Victor smiled and agreed, “Okay.”

{…}

Yuri was equally as daring as Victor, and almost as pretty though in a much different way. He spun and turned as if he met every obstacle the ice offered him and conquered it. Yuuri suddenly felt very silly to think he had anything to teach either of them on the ice.

Victor called something in Russian- probably something technical Yuri had gotten wrong- before he caught sight of him sulking by the barrier. He quickly skated over, small frown in place as he tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy.

“Is something wrong Yuuri?” he inquired, and Yuuri was quick to shake his head.

“No I-” Yuuri suddenly didn’t know what to say so he finished lamely, “I never had anything to teach you on the ice, Victor, yet I thought I did.”

“Nonsense,” Victor brushed off settling at his side like he belonged there, “Everybody has something to learn from the ice.”

Yuuri shook his head, “Not you.”

Victor’s smile was thin and practically white as blue eyes cloudy over in thought. He was staring in nothing, and it made Yuuri slightly uncomfortable.

“You’re wrong Yuuri,” Victor hummed softly as Yuri rose, spun and fell once more, “I’ve learned so much from you.”

Yuuri felt himself blush, but then Victor moved away shouting congratulations at Yuri as he clapped and beamed and looked so proud.

_You two make me want to gag._

Yuuri ignored the voice as he moved over to where Victor was standing, adding in his congratulations. Yuri, who was flushed and panting, turned rosy as he tried hiding his blush underneath pale bangs.

{…}

Victor took them to a small Russian café that was cheap and clean and some of the most delicious food Yuuri’s ever tasted. Yuri must have agreed as he devoured all of his plate and most of Victor’s. Victor just laughed, lines crinkling around his face. The domestic scene had Yuuri feeling homesick.

“Tomorrow I have an interview,” Victor announced at desert, scooping his molten chocolate cake onto Yuri’s plate and watching as the teen engulfed it in almost three bites, “It’s at the ice rink, and Yakov says I all but have the job, but it’s a technicality.”

Yuuri nodded, the text message he’d received several minutes earlier making sense, and the thought of working with Victor, learning with Victor, was enough to make his stomach twist painfully.

“Yakov just gave me tomorrow off so me and Yuri can spend time together,” Yuuri reassured because that was what Victor was really asking.

Yuuri pictured, suddenly, Yuri stepping in between him and the Ice King and standing up for him and how almost immediately after he fell. So suddenly and so fast he crumpled because he’s not a user and non-users are _fragile_.

 _I’ll protect him with my life_ , Yuuri vowed silently as brown eyes trailed down to the youth too consumed with his deserts to pay much attention to the conversation and Yuuri couldn’t imagine how he’d once thought Yuri was callous.

The blonde was interrupted suddenly by Victor wrapping his arm around his neck and pulling him into a tight embrace as he gushed, “Aw! My boys are spending time without me! No fair!”

“Oye old man! Get a hold of yourself! We’re in public!” Yuri barked as he struggled under Victor’s hold.

Victor didn’t release him as he continued to fake sob in his hair. He even pretended to blow his nose at one point, which only made Yuri fight all the harder to get away. Heads turned to stare at them but Yuuri found he didn’t really mind all that much.

He found his mind drifting to what it will be like working with Victor, and he remembered suddenly Victor agreeing to be his coach. Blood rushed to his cheeks, and he downed the rest of his water to get the rising heat under control.

Victor had agreed. Victor had smiled and agreed and _dear Lord_ help him.

His phone buzzed, Phichit’s smiling face as he held up one of his hamsters for the selfie flashed on screen. Sudden shame doused the rising heat as he remembered why he’d been dodging his friend’s calls. Yuri, who’d somehow managed to get Victor to release him, noticed and frowned.

“You should answer. It could be important,” he said before Victor managed to reclaim him and pull him back to his chest.

Yuuri gave him a soft smile as he compiled but, to his surprise, Phichit’s voice sounded neither angry nor disappointed. It sounded slightly panicked, his words rushed and it sent a dizzyingly flurry inside Yuuri’s stomach. Then the words filtered and his initial fright turned to confusion.

“Whoa. Phichit calm down,” Yuuri said as he frowned, “What do you mean you’re living with Chris?”

{…}

Phichit was actually living with Chris- like all of his stuff was in the older man’s apartment officially living with Chris. Yuuri was frowning, looking concerned and Victor found he couldn’t blame him. He couldn’t even think of any instances of the two males ever meeting each other much less long enough to warrant _this_.

“How?” was what Yuuri finally came up with, and his flustered confusion was cute and made Victor’s heart do weird things in his chest.

“Long story short? We met through a mutual friend,” Chris explained because Phichit looked crossed between shaking Yuuri and breaking down into confused sobbing.

Chris sat down beside the conflicted male, wrapping an arm around his waist because he was Chris and also probably because he was testing Yuuri’s reaction. Phichit didn’t even seem to acknowledge the move as he continued staring at his friend, begging for answers Yuuri didn’t have.

“I don’t-” Yuuri said, dark eyes finding the hand wrapped around his friend’s waist and settling there as if that alone was enough to get Chris to release his friend.

Yuuri was impossibly cute whenever he was being protective, even if the perceived threat wasn’t really any threat at all.

“They came over after you two left to walk Mila home,” Yuri interrupted as he looked anywhere but Victor, “Did I forget to mention that?”

Victor frowned, tucking that away for later when there wasn’t so many people around. Instead he decided to focus on the most pressing matters at hand.

“Why?”

“I lost my job,” Phichit explained as he ducked his head, hands twisting and tugging at the fabric of his jeans, “and Yuuri was dodging my calls. I’m sorry. I’d just really needed someone to talk to.”

Victor wasn’t really angry about Phichit coming over unannounced. He was upset that he’d come over unannounced while he hadn’t been there, and he should’ve been. A soft sob escaped Yuuri’s lips, and before anyone could move Yuuri had leapt across the room and pulled Phichit into a tight hug.

Phichit melted into the embrace, hands clutching and clawing Yuuri’s clothes. A man who thought he’d lost everything but hadn’t really. Victor suddenly felt bad for intruding on such a moment. Instead his eyes found Yuri, who was still avoiding his gaze.

“Don’t be too angry,” Chris said suddenly at his side without Victor realizing he’d moved, “It worked out well in the end, no? There’s plenty of space around here, and he doesn’t even mind that I mostly sleep naked!”

Yuuri choked the same time Yuri did and, to everyone’s surprise, Phichit let out a low laugh, and despite himself Victor found himself smiling. He’s known Chris long enough to know he was _probably_ joking, and he hasn’t known Phichit for very long but anyone who could laugh off Chris’s antics couldn’t be all that terrible.

His eyes still narrowed on Yuri, who had his cheeks puffed out and blue eyes locked in the far corner of the room, as he silently resolved himself to lecturing him about why you don’t open doors to people you’ve only met once even as his gaze focused on Yuuri.

 _The circumstances then_ , he told himself firmly, _were completely different._

{…}

Victor’s phone ended up going off in the middle of corning Yuri and not before he got the chance to make anything stick in his stubborn little head.

He gave Yuri a knowing look as the youth beamed gratefully at the device and- no, Yuri was not allowed to be grateful Victor was leaving because it wasn’t fair.

“We’re not done here,” Victor promised even as he moved towards his closet for his suit, behind him Yuri shrugged as he flopped down on the mattress.

“Whatever you say old man,” he waved off, own phone lighting up his face as his eyes got soft in ways they only did whenever he was speaking with Otabek and Yuri was happy for him- he really was- but he wasn’t blind or stupid and could tell they were moving very far from being friends.

“I’m serious,” Victor affirmed, mentally adding on the dangers of dating and how to avoid them as he slipped off his clothes and in his costume.

“Uh huh,” Yuri agreed probably no longer listening.

Victor huffed, grabbing his phone on his way out. It was hard to imagine how only a month ago he lived in a world impossibly isolated save for Yuri. Now he was living with another man who’d he spend nearly every day on the ice with, and his friend was living with other people and they’d gone over to visit them and how was the world so perfect right now?

“You came.”

He stopped at the voice, turning to find a man standing several feet away, watching.

The man smiled, tilting his head to the side, as he said poisonously sweet, “I must admit you’re much more trouble than I originally intended. Always stepping in the middle of my plans, inserting yourself in places you don’t belong.”

Victor frowned, feeling the cold build up inside him but nothing else happened. He glanced down at his hands in shock. The ice had never avoided him before. Across from him, the man laughed.

“You look surprised. No matter, most people are. I guess there isn’t very many suppressors around anymore.”

Victor’s head shot up. Suppressor? That meant his powers-

“Are useless around me. Yes,” the man finished his thought, straightening his tie and continuing like they were speaking of the weather, “I am here to offer you one last chance, to succeed in where my pets have failed. Let me do my business here.”

Victor didn’t even have to think. He’s gained so much in St. Petersburg these last couple of weeks, he wasn’t letting some deranged user take it all away from him.

“No.”

The man tutted, evidently disappointed. Victor didn’t care. He didn’t put on his mask to appease people, especially not people like him.

“Tell me little princess, do you really think you can save everyone? Do you think you can protect them all against my wrath?” he asked and Victor had a sudden vision of a world without Chris or Yakov or Yuuri and he felt sick.

“If I must,” he declared, straightening his shoulders and willing his ice to come but it remained stubbornly at bay- hidden _just beneath_ the surface.

“Well then,” the man agreed with a dazzlingly smile, “This will be quite the spectacle.”

Victor lunged, brain unclear as thoughts buzzed past him. All he knew was this man was threatening to take everything he’s created and Victor couldn’t let that happen. He wasn’t _strong enough_ to let that happen.

The man sidestepped him easily, knee finding the soft part of Victor’s stomach. He felt all air leave his lungs even as he spun back around just in time to counter a lunge at his solar plexus then again at an attack at his kidneys.

“You won’t win,” Victor declared as he danced back at a swipe towards his head.

The man smiled, shark teeth beaming at him from the shadows as he purred, “Oh little princess, why are you so blind? I already have.”

Something hard and blunt connected with the back of his skull, and his last thought was of how he’d literally walked into this trap.

{…}

“Should I remove his mask?” Sara asked, the gun she’d used to strike the hero down still grasped tightly in her hand.

He looked so vulnerable, all of a sudden, lying unconscious on the floor of some dirty factory building. One of those she’d used to arrange a meeting for him not so long ago. His pale hair laid limply over plaint features, face screwed in distress even in unconsciousness.

“No,” Celestino announced without hesitation, straightening the front of his suit as dark eyes continued to bore into the hero’s face like he could see beneath the mask.

Sara’s fingers fidgeted nervously around her gun. It hadn’t felt right, ambushing him the way she had but it had been Celestino’s plan, and she could never truly tell him no. And he’d been right, unfortunately for the hero.

“Do you want me to carry him?” she asked, the thought of kidnapping the only person who’s ever dared standing up against Celestino making her sick.

“No.”

She bit down on her lip to keep the sigh of relief from escaping. She thought of her brother- young and afraid of his powers- as she kept her features schooled in a reminder of why she’d pledged her allegiance to the man before her.

“May I inquire what the point of tonight was then?” she ventured because she knew he was expecting her to speak yet she was running out of things to say.

He met her eyes with a dead expression, his eyes alone enough to send shivers down her spine. She’d learned a long time ago she couldn’t best him in combat and considering users abilities didn’t work around him, he’s never lost a fight before.

_A dangerous man indeed._

“My dear, if you need the point of tonight told to you like a child then I should have picked a more competent pet of mine.”

 _Except your other pets don’t like being around you because of your ability_ , her mind thought before she could stop herself.

He surely saw the traitorous thought in her eyes as he pursed his lips. She quickly ducked her head, desperate to hide though she knew it was too late. He’d saw, and, he’d known, and now he was debating her worth.

_Forgive me Michele._

“Leave him for the morning,” Celestino said, “He’s one of the first interesting toys I’ve yet to play with. Come along now.”

She risked a glance up. Celestino had his back turned and was already moving across the factory. Her fingers instinctively gripped tighter around the gun in her hand.

His back was turned to her, and it would be so easy to reach up and shoot. She’s done it enough times where it was practically second nature.

_Gun up, aim, and fire._

It would be so simple. So quick, easy even, just like she knew what he saw when he looked her in the eyes. He’d seen, and he’d known.

She didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	19. The Truth of Us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celestino is a penis. That's about it.

Victor didn’t come home.

Yuri told himself not to panic, but a night of no sleep was starting to take its toll. Victor had never _not_ returned home before, and that fact alone was enough to strangle something inside of Yuri.

“Yuri?” Yuuri asked as he left the bedroom and he looked so worried for him which was ridiculous because _Victor never came home._

“It’s nothing,” Yuri denied, though it sounded weak to his own ears.

Victor never came home. Victor left, and Yuri hadn’t given it a second thought until he didn’t come back and the only thing that could keep Victor from returning was-

Yuri refused to allow his mind to wonder to such a dark place. He wasn’t sure what he would do, but he didn’t allow himself to go there because Victor wasn’t dead. Victor wasn’t allowed to be dead. He didn’t know where Victor was or why he didn’t return but he knew their biggest problem at the moment was keeping the reason why Victor walked into the apartment yesterday and was gone in the morning from Yuuri.

“Are you sure?” Yuuri persisted reaching out to grab onto his wrist, “Yuri, you’re looking quite pale. Are you dizzy? Nauseous?”

Yuri jerked his arm free.

“I’m fine. I said it was nothing,” he said.

Yuuri didn’t look sold. His frown seemed to deepen, dark eyes casting uncertain shadows amongst the rest of his face. Yuri folded his hands behind him, reluctant to chance touching him. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Yuuri but the man was well-meaning enough to force Yuri to say something he’ll regret later- accidental or no.

“Yuri I’m worried,” Yuuri started before a thought occurred to him as he said, “I understand if you don’t wish to speak with me about this. I can go wake Victor if you want.”

He’d already turned, prepared to do just that. Yuri’s heart lurched, panic making his stomach do weird things.

“No!’ he shouted before his reason could catch up with him.

Yuuri startled. His eyes were two dark disks, a deer caught in the headlights and Yuri was the car. Something close to shame burned deep inside Yuri’s gut. He hadn’t meant to give Yuuri a heart attack, but his worry for Victor was starting to make him lose focus.

“No,” Yuri repeated in a softer tone, “I’m actually very hungry.”

He could practically see the Japanese man’s ears perk up as a sudden light sparked inside his eyes at the thought of being useful. Yuri was just relieved to see him turn from Victor’s door.

“Victor should be waking up soon,” Yuuri said conversationally moving around the kitchen with a familiarity the stranger Yuuri thinks himself to be could never, “He has that interview with Yakov today.”

Yuri knew that yesterday. Today all he could think was how he hadn’t even batten an eyelash when Victor left. The thought made him nauseous.

“I’ll go check on him,” Yuri muttered dryly moving back towards the bedroom.

The room was empty and, though that was expected, his heart sank all the same.

{…}

A drummer had seemed to take permanent residence inside Victor’s skull.

Victor groaned. His cheek was pressed against something cold and hard- the opposite of his bed- and he reached out. Searching. Needing the knowledge that Yuri was safe at his side. His fingers touched nothing but more cold.

“ _Ywari_ ,” he groaned, the name not quite taking shape on his lips and coming out sounding awkward and malformed.

Silence answered, echoing.

“Yuri,” Victor called again- louder and clearer- as he managed to get his eyes open and elbows underneath him.

He was alone but he wasn’t home, which calmed some of the budding panic inside him. It looked as if he’d somehow ended up in what appeared to be an old factory. Then, slowly, he remembered what’d happened.

Yuri was safe, at home, and Victor had been the idiot who’d got himself ambushed. His powers had been suppressed and he’d been struck from behind by a blunt object, which explained his blinding headache. He groaned as he shifted, white blinding his vision and making him nauseous.

He needed to get home before Yuri freaked out.

His elbows buckled under his sudden weight, and he barely caught himself before he collapsed back against the ground. His vision faded in and out momentarily but after several deep breaths he managed to reign it back under control.

The next time he attempted rising to his feet he was much more successful. It was only when he gathered his feet underneath him did everything flash in and out for the briefest of moments. It passed, though, and he was already moving.

He could’ve walked back to his apartment in a roaring blizzard blind and deaf and stupid. Stumbling around with a minor headache was nothing.

Yuri was curled on the bed, Makkachin tucked into his arms. Victor couldn’t see his face as it was buried in the dog’s thick brown fur. Victor didn’t know where Yuuri was, but he could tell by the way Yuri was breathing that he was still asleep.

_Thank goodness for small miracles._

Victor changed quickly, rubbing the back of his head every so often. It was still sore, and the headache made his eyes cross but he was all too aware of Yuuri’s presence in the other room and it was bad enough Victor got a child mixed up with his life.

The mattress dipped as Victor took the spot next to Yuri’s sleeping form. Yuri gave a low groan, squeezing Makkachin’s neck tighter.

“You’re so adorable when you sleep little kitten,” Victor whispered.

Yuri shot upright, hands finding themselves around Victor’s throat. His eyes were clear with anger, but it was obvious he hadn’t gotten much sleep. The realization hurt more than the fingers digging into his soft flesh.

“Oh my little kitten, I’m so sorry,” Victor choked out- the lump in his throat unrelated to Yuri’s poor attempt at strangling him.

“I’m not your damn kitten,” Yuri growled but released him, turning his back to him as he crossed his arms in an adorable pout.

Despite himself, Victor chuckled.

“I know,” Victor agreed, “I’m still sorry though.”

Yuri huffed, spine straight and rigid. He wasn’t angry at Victor, though, so at least that was something. Victor actually wasn’t sure what he was angry about.

“ _Yura_ ,” he tried when the silence stretched on far too long.

Yuri bowed his head, blonde hair shadowing pale skin and the dark lines underneath his ears. So strong it was hard to forget how young he was.

“Shut up. Just _shut up_ ,” Yuri growled, low and feral in the back of his throat.

A smart man would’ve backed off. They would’ve left him alone, would’ve run and waited until Yuri’s temper cooled. Victor was never known for being smart.

Victor reached out and wrapped himself around Yuri’s back. Yuri tensed, muscles tight and back rigid. Victor just squeezed him slightly, trying to convey without words that he was there, and he’d always be there.

“Sometimes I hate you old man,” Yuri murmured, voice thick with emotion he rarely showed.

“No you don’t,” Victor denied as he buried his face in blonde hair.

Yuri didn’t reply. He didn’t have to- Victor already knew.

{…}

Yuuri eventually knocked, asking if either of them wanted breakfast. Yuri said nothing as he pinched Victor in the side before climbing from bed at the promise of food. Victor laughed, relieved Yuri had forgiven him.

Yuuri had given him a shy smile when Victor emerged, glancing nervously at Yuri. Victor smiled and shook his head as he walked over to kiss the top of Yuri’s head. Yuri actually hissed at him for that, and it made Victor’s chest glow.

Yuuri echoed his laughter, which only soured Yuri’s lack-of-sleep attitude.

“You two are so alike,” Yuuri noted and it wasn’t the first time he’s made the observation but it still made Victor feel funny in the best sort of way.

“I’m nothing like him,” Yuri protested but his words held no bite.

Victor kissed his head once more before moving away quickly so he didn’t get stabbed with a fork. Yuri’s eyes promised later pain. Victor didn’t mind. He must have frightened Yuri terribly when he didn’t return and for that he will never forgive himself.

“No. You’re so much stronger,” Victor agreed as he gave Yuuri a wink, “and I’m running terribly late. I’m sorry Yuuri. It looks delicious.”

“I’ll save you a plate,” Yuuri offered and without thinking Victor thanked him with a kiss to the cheek.

Yuuri sputtered. Yuri choked. Victor felt like an idiot and couldn’t leave the apartment quick enough. He was so certain he’d put that behind him- Yuuri made it clear he didn’t like him like that, and Victor didn’t want to force or guilt him into anything.

But he’d been right there and Victor’s body had moved before his brain could’ve told him no.

Victor gave a low sigh, burying his face in his hands and praying for strength.

{…}

“We can-” Yuuri tried as Yuri set the dishes in the sink, staring glumly down the drain.

The sight made Yuuri’s heart ache, strangely enough. He wanted to reach out, pull the kid to his chest and hold him forever but that wasn’t his place.

“I’m going back to bed,” Yuri announced, and he did look exhausted.

“But-” Yuuri protested the same time his phone buzzed.

Yuri yawned, shoulders slumped and eyes sad as he shook his head and repeated a bit firmer, “I’m going back to bed.”

“Okay,” Yuuri agreed, the words on his phone blurring together as panic clawed its way back up his throat.

Sara: _Café a block from Victor’s apartment. Ten minutes. Alone._

Yuri gave him a strange look, but he looked moments from collapsing and retreated to the safety of his bedroom. Yuuri let him, relieved not to seek out an excuse on why he needed to leave suddenly. He didn’t even bother gathering any of his things on his way out.

Sara was seated at the far corner booth, cup of coffee clutched in her grasp. She looked much the same as Yuri had- sleep deprived and far too old. Yuuri took his spot across from her without asking for permission first.

“You came,” she noted almost disappointedly.

Yuuri placed both his hands against the table in front of them- a sign of good faith though it was more habit than anything else. There was really no faith between the two of them- all meetings they share arranged and full of feigned politeness.

“You called,” Yuuri responded dryly, “I came.”

Sara pursed a lips, taking a sip of her coffee. She made a face, like it was too bitter or she was recovering from something awful. Yuuri would’ve betted on the latter knowing her.

She set the cup firmly back on the table. The glass made a slight _clinking_ sound, the dark liquid spilling over the lip and staining the white tablecloth.

“You shouldn’t have,” she said.

Yuuri’s brow furrowed as her words sank in. Something wasn’t right. Sara got that look one did when asked for an impossible task, and all those years Yuuri’s known her Sara wasn’t one for those looks.

“What’d you do?” he demanded- low and dangerous.

Sara met his gaze, relentless and unflinching. She’s always been bold in ways Yuuri never thought he could. Now he saw something else in her violet gaze- the closest thing to regret Yuuri’s seen her capable of.

“What’d you do?” Yuuri repeated.

He didn’t explode in his outrage- never been the type- but he felt something building inside of him. It was raw and hot and moments from erupting.

Sara’s gaze fell to her drink as she said, “I’ve done nothing, Yuuri.”

A hand closed around Yuuri’s heart, squeezing and tight. His breath left him, but this was different from his anxiety. This was the fear for someone else’s safety; someone innocent. Someone who didn’t deserve to be caught up in any of this.

He rose to his feet, chair clattering behind him. Sara didn’t even flinch, just looked at it with a dull expression.

“For what it’s worth,” Sara said to his back, “I am sorry.”

{…}

Makkachin gave a low whine before he growled. It rumbled against Yuri’s chest, and he wasn’t sure how long he’s been sleeping but it woke him all the same.

He blinked open blurry eyes, giving Victor’s dog a pat on the head and a soft shushing noise. Makkachin’s eyes found him, and they were dark with something Yuri couldn’t comprehend. Cats were easier to understand anyways, but Victor was oddly attached to his poodle so Yuri tolerated him.

“It’s alright,” Yuri murmured climbing from the bed, “It’s probably just the other Yuuri. You know him. He’s the room stealing pig.”

His words sounded hollow to his own ears. Makkachin wasn’t violent nor aggressive, and he wasn’t one to just start growling at any little noise.

“Stay here,” Yuri commanded, before sneaking on cat paws to the living room.

It was empty, which wasn’t right. Yuuri shouldn’t have gone anywhere. Yuuri had seemed so excited the day before.

“ _Yuuri?_ ” he asked.

Silence answered.

“ _Piggy?_ ” he tried, and there was a creak behind him.

A hand clamped over his mouth, squeezing his nose and strangling his lungs. Yuri gave a low yelp even as he was pulled towards his attacker’s chest, a strong arm securing his torso. He was trapped- small and weak and helpless.

Yuri hated feeling helpless.

He struggled but the arms just tightened, his head tipping backwards until he was staring up at the ceiling. It blurred, dizzyingly, and Yuri was vaguely aware of Makkachin barking, clawing at the closed bedroom door.

It was the last thing he remembered before darkness swallowed his vision.

{…}

The walk from the café to Victor’s apartment was no more than fifteen minutes- ten if he ran. Yuuri made it back in less than eight, panic making his heart elevate and blood pound inside his ears.

He’d left Yuri alone: asleep and unguarded. He didn’t even bother telling him he was going out so Yuri had no reason to suspect an intruder if he heard a noise in the other room. Yuri so small and impossibly delicate with the world carried around on his shoulders.

Yuri was fine. He _had_ to be. Yuuri wouldn’t accept anything less.

_You’re showing your hand, Yuuri._

_What’re you planning?_

Silence answered. Yuuri cursed the voice- not for the first time but this time felt different. Not when all Yuuri could picture was Yuri- standing up for him and cursing every misfortunate that turned his way- and Victor- distraught and panicked when he thought Yuri was lost to them- and Yuuri couldn’t be responsible. He _wouldn’t_.

Makkachin was clawing at Victor’s bedroom door when Yuuri finally stumbled inside. His heart gave a painful lurch at the implication behind that.

“Yuri?” he called, even as he moved towards the door to let Makkachin free.

Yuri didn’t answer. Makkachin came out of the bedroom with his hair standing up on his back and white teeth flashing. It was out of place of the usually docile dog.

“Makkachin,” Yuuri said as he bent down to gather the poodle’s face in his hands and press their faces together, “Where’s Yuri, Makkachin? I’m sorry. I failed you. I failed you all.”

At his side, his phone rang. He didn’t even bother checking the name- he already knew who it was.

“Where is he?” he growled, Makkachin pressed protectively to his chest and the hand squeezing his chest making him dizzy.

“Now. Now, my pet. Is that any way to speak to your master?” the voice purred in that way that reminded Yuuri of oiled honey- sweet and dangerous.

“Where is he?” Yuuri repeated: Yuri was missing, he didn’t have time to play Celestino’s game.

Celestino clicked his tongue at him as he said, “It seems I was right in my assumption that your little roommates matter to you. Here I was under the notion of raising you better.”

Yuuri had already known his emotions were controlling his sense before he answered the phone. He stopped caring. Celestino kidnapped Yuri- broke into Victor’s home and kidnapped Yuri because he could and wanted reason to push Yuuri further in the corner. A corner he’d willing crawl into if it meant leaving Victor and Yuri out of it.

“I want to speak to him,” Yuuri said.

“Impossible,” Celestino denied instantly and the pressure on his heart increased, “Come find me. The place this all started. I think you know it.”

He hung up.

Yuuri was struggling to remember how to breathe. Celestino didn’t kill Yuri- couldn’t have. He had no reason to, even less to drag a body out from the apartment and across town to prove a point. He would’ve left it. As a sign. As a power play. He would’ve-

Yuuri buried a kiss on top of Makkachin’s head as he rose to his feet.

“Don’t worry,” he promised softly, “I’m going to fix this.”

Makkachin gave a low whine, eyes large and begging to come too. Yuuri shook his head, brushing his bangs out of his face. He couldn’t risk anymore- not when he was the one at fault. Not when he was the one who brought this upon them.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’ll make this right. Promise.”

Makkachin didn’t look like he believed him. Yuuri didn’t really believe himself.

Celestino was waiting for him on the top of the diamond store Yuuri had robbed not long after he arrived- the one he meet the Ice King on. The beginning, Celestino had said. Yuuri didn’t care what he called it, not when there was a bony blonde figure lying at his feet.

Celestino picked at the underneath of his fingernails as he noted, “No problem finding this place, I see. Good lad.”

Yuuri swallowed, eyes caught on Yuri’s motionless figure. His arms were twisted awkwardly behind him, wrists bound with a rope. Yuuri found hope in that. There wasn’t a reason to bind a dead person.

Celestino noticed, of course, because he always noticed.

“Oh relax. He’s still breathing,” and as if to emphasize his point, Celestino buried the toe of his boot in the side of Yuri’s stomach.

Yuuri flinched sympathetically. Yuri just gave a low groan, head twisting as if to escape. Yuuri finally found the courage to meet Celestino’s eyes. They were cold and dead and smug. The way they got whenever Celestino was gloating about something.

“He holds no part in this,” Yuuri said.

“Oh contrary my little Yuuri,” Celestino tutted as he reached down to stroke gently, almost lovingly, Yuri’s pale hair.

Yuuri took an instinctive step forward, hands curled into tight fists. He knew he wasn’t going to do anything, couldn’t do anything but Celestino was touching Yuri. Kidnapped Yuri, hurt Yuri and was now touching Yuri like he owned him.

Celestino looked up, and Yuuri halted. Celestino glanced back down at Yuri and gave a soft smile, one a father would a son except it was twisted and ugly. Morbid. It was the same smile he got whenever he found himself a new toy. A useful toy to his plans.

Yuri was not going to be his toy.

Yuuri’s hand hurt, and he had to uncurl his fingers to keep from breaking skin. Celestino met his gaze, tipping his head to the side and pursing his lips. It was the closest thing to a challenge Celestino would ever allow himself.

“Let him go,” Yuuri said, as much as an acceptance to the challenge that was allowed, “You don’t need him.”

“Like I said, I must disagree,” Celestino said and with a lurch he lifted Yuri’s head off the ground.

Yuri made a face, pinching his eyes together before they fluttered open- confused and dazed but alive. They found Yuuri instantly and some of his confusion faded, replaced by pain and anger as Celestino continued jerking it back.

“Stop it!” Yuuri shouted.

Celestino released Yuri’s hair, and Yuri’s head fell. Green eyes never left Yuuri: strong and relentless and trusting. Why did Yuri always seem to look at him like that?

Celestino didn’t seem to notice as he straightened back to his feet, tossing a small rectangular object at Yuuri. He caught it easily, glancing down at the cell phone.

“It’s a burner,” Celestino explained, “Useless after you contact the Ice King, tell him where we are and that we got a hostage. And it’s such a pretty little one at that.”

Yuri made a small sound, probably meant to be a curse but it was muffled behind his gag. Yuuri’s gaze found Celestino’s once more.

“Just do as you’re told or we get to see if little Yuri knows how to fly,” Celestino said and Yuuri matched his words with a look that breathed resentment.

Celestino puckered his lips once more, tipping his head towards the phone. Yuuri took the hint and did as he was told. Then he dropped the phone on the ground and stomped on it with the heel of his boot. It cracked easily, the cheap metal bending in towards itself.

“Good,” Celestino praised as he took hold of Yuri’s armpits and hefted him to his feet.

Yuri kept his knees limp out of spite, eyes hard and glittering with anger. Yuuri admired the kid for that but then Celestino bashed the side of his face with his elbow. Yuri gave a low grunt, head twisting to the side hidden behind a curtain of hair.

This time Yuri didn’t bother fighting Celestino. He kept his eyes locked on Yuuri, his face set in a glare. He looked irritated, annoyed, and it looked out of place with the bruise blossoming on the side of his face. He should be scared- terrified. Most people would be, but Yuuri had been quick to learn Yuri wasn’t like most people.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what my plan is, and how Yuri fits into it,” Celestino said, breaking the silence.

He traced the side of Yuri’s face, gentle and caring even as Yuri tried shying away. Celestino just gripped Yuri tighter, dragging him closer to his body.

“It’s quite simple actually,” Celestino continued, “You know how I detest complicated things.”

“Of course,” Yuuri agreed, eyes stuck on the new dark forming on the side of Yuri’s pale face; it made his stomach churn.

“Well this plan I’m inclined to keep to my chest. It’ll be more fun that way,” Celestino said the same moment a familiar voice called out from behind.

“Yuri!” and- for the briefest moment- Yuuri thought he was the one being addressed.

He turned, heart lurching at the sight of St. Petersburg’s hero. Blue eyes were cold- that way they got whenever Yuuri threatened him in their second encounter. His skin looked paler than usual, and his face was twisted in anger.

“Is that his name?” Celestino inquired as he pressed himself closer into Yuri’s space.

Yuri leaned as far away as he could and Yuuri ached to reach out and help him. He didn’t, though, fear keeping him firmly planted where he stood. It wasn’t until a hand touched his elbow that Yuuri remembered to breath.

“He hurt you?” the Ice King asked, voice gentle and worried and Yuuri remembered he wasn’t the Masked Phantom.

“Oh no. He’s with me,” Celestino spoke before Yuuri got the chance, “Loyal, that one. Talented, too, but I’ve been told you two are already acquainted.”

The Ice King’s face twisted in momentary confusion before recognition dawned. Blue eyes turned icy and hard as the hand disappeared and the hero stepped away. Yuuri’s mouth fell open but nothing came out and all he could do was shake his head in denial.

Yuri gave another grunt, but Celestino shook him for his efforts. From his spot Yuuri saw the hero’s face darken and hands curl.

“What do you want?” the hero demanded, voice clipped and cold and it sent shivers down Yuuri’s spine.

“I want us to speak like civilized adults,” Celestino purred jerking on Yuri’s arm to draw him nearer, “Ones that don’t play dress up. Mask off hero.”

Blue eyes narrowed, sharp and deadly and if only looks could kill. They couldn’t, though, and Celestino drew another breath. He’d managed to reel Yuri back into his side; the kid’s face was twisted in a disgusted expression but no one but Yuuri seemed to notice.

Celestino jostled Yuri once more as he repeated firmer, “Mask. Off. Or I’ll get creative with blondie here.”

Ice King was stuck and they all knew it. His eyes kept flickering to Celestino’s captive, and his expression looked so familiar. Yuuri could almost picture it, sitting on the couch in the small living room as he stared at a screen like it held his entire world-

The Ice King reached up.

-he was gripping a poodle against his side, blue eyes praying for a miracle. If Yuuri was honest than he’d say he was praying as well.

The mask came off.

Yuuri wanted to look away. A secret identity was everything and once it was stripped away you were no longer the only one in danger. Everyone you’ve ever loved were now vulnerable and Celestino sought to exploit every vulnerability a person may have.

Yuuri’s breath caught in the back of his throat.

“Victor?”

Victor didn’t look at him as he straightened his shoulders and spine and glared. Yuuri felt his pulse quicken because _no, no, no. He didn’t. He couldn’t._

Celestino laughed, “It seems our story has come full circle now.”

And in a singular movement he tossed Yuri in the air. Most users were born with unnatural strength- a blessing, Yuuri’s mom used to call it- but even then Yuri was so small. It probably took next to nothing to sling him in the air, soaring gracefully upwards.

Then gravity took hold and Yuri disappeared over the side of the building in a flash of blonde and green.


	20. The Balance Shifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor is lost and scary and Celestino might have met his match.

Victor gave an angry roar. The sound jostled something deep inside Yuuri, the temperature dropping several degrees. It turned frigid, revealing the breath in front of Yuuri’s face- the realization jostling Yuuri back into awareness.

Victor shouldn’t be allowed to use his powers around Celestino, and yet he was.

Victor didn’t even seem to be aware that he was. All sense had left his face once Yuri disappeared over the side of the building bound and defenseless and _Yuuri couldn’t breathe._

His chest felt tight, fingers tingling with cold. He needed to move, needed to intervene, because this was what Celestino wanted. To push Victor, to _punish_ him for disrespecting him.

Victor lurched forward, graceful and elegant, as fawns of ice spread wherever his foot touched. Victor didn’t notice nor did his face register the stunned expression on Celestino’s face. Yuuri suspected all he saw was anger- pulsing and electrified.

Victor spun, pivoting his leg up and around towards Celestino’s neck. Celestino caught it easily, but it was clear by his expression that it was by instinct and nothing else. Victor was using his powers- he shouldn’t be capable but he was.

“Victor!” Yuuri called but Victor ignored him, probably didn’t even _hear_ him.

Yuuri felt the buzzing in his ears, washing most of everything else out. The only thing keeping him from succumbing completely to his grief was the fact Victor was still there. Victor was still in danger.

Ice climbed down the sleeve of Celestino’s jacket but then Victor was moving, wrapping his other leg around Celestino’s shoulder, and quicker than Yuuri could keep track of Victor had both his legs wrapped around Celestino’s neck. He twisted his body, dragging Celestino to his knees.

Yuuri watched in shock because Victor brought Celestino to his knees. No one has ever done that before, and Victor didn’t even seem to comprehend what he was doing. He just looked angry and lost and Yuuri imagined vengeance was the only thing keeping him upright.

Celestino grunted, trying to move Victor- hurt Victor- but Victor had his hand wrapped around one of Celestino’s wrists and the other was frozen stiff. His neck was trapped between Victor’s legs and Victor just kept twisting, kept pulling, until Celestino was on his back with a knee buried into his neck.

“Well done hero,” Celestino praised, voice croaky and trapped behind the pointed end of Victor’s knee, “I must admit this is a first for me.”

Victor didn’t reply.

Yuuri imagined he’s decided words weren’t good enough for the man anymore. Yuuri couldn’t blame him, not when he’d thrown Yuri off a roof just to instigate him.

Victor just pushed forward, kept pressing until Celestino’s skin started to turn blue. Celestino made soft choking noises, words sticking to the sides of his throat and strangling him. It was the first time Yuuri realized why the Ice King was so feared, why nobody had provoked him before them.

That time when Yuuri shivered it had nothing to do with the cold Victor had created.

If only Celestino fell that easily.

He moved with his frozen hand, gripping the hilt of the knife he kept at his hip. Victor didn’t even seem to notice the first time the blade was buried in his thigh, but it was enough to give Celestino a momentary window.

Victor fell off Celestino’s body, red staining the top of the roof. Yuuri’s heart thudded painfully once more, and he didn’t think he could handle losing Victor. Not yet. Not ever.

“Victor!” Yuuri heard himself shout, but Celestino had regained the upper hand.

He pulled the knife out and back into Victor’s leg. That time Victor did scream, but it sounded more angry than pained. The noise must have spurred Celestino on because he did it again and again and Yuuri wasn’t sure when he moved but suddenly he was there, yanking Celestino off him.

It was the first time he’s ever laid hands on the man.

From the look Celestino gave him, it was going to be the last.

“He’s more useful to us alive,” Yuuri said, squaring his shoulders and avoiding Victor’s eyes.

Celestino said nothing, just kept his eyes on Yuuri’s. Yuuri didn’t back down- wasn’t going to because Victor was bleeding and Yuuri couldn’t lose him, Ice King or no. Celestino must have seen that, or perhaps he’d never planned on killing Victor, but either way he nodded.

“Knock him out,” Celestino commanded, eyes falling onto Victor’s twisted face, “He’ll be easier to carry that way.”

Victor barred his teeth as he jerked forward. His hands were clamped over the wound in his leg.

Yuuri knelt down beside him and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Victor’s eyes finally fell upon him but they were unfamiliar. Sharp and cold, a stranger’s gaze. A stranger filled with hate. It made Yuuri’s chest ache.

He reared back, knocking Victor out with a solid strike against the man’s temple. Victor’s body fell limp, vulnerable, and Yuuri was reluctant to part from him. He yearned to reach out and bring Victor’s fingers to his lips, murmuring soft apologies. Instead a hand came to rest on the back of his neck and Yuuri had to suppress a shiver.

“Very good pet,” Celestino purred.

Yuuri swallowed, shame choking him. He felt so powerless as Celestino bent over to heft Victor upright. Victor’s unconscious body wilted away like it knew it needed to get as far from the man holding him as possible while Yuuri just watched.

If only he knew how Victor was able to use his powers. If only he was braver. If only he was stronger. If only he was bolder. If only he was more useful. If only-

“Victor!”

Yuuri startled, spinning to his feet and facing the bony blonde figure standing on the other side of the apartment. His clothes were rumbled and stained with colorful spots, a rotten banana peel dangled off his left shoulder, and despite all of that Yuuri felt his heart soar at the sight.

“ _Yura_ ,” he breathed.

“What an unpleasant development,” Celestino ground out, releasing his hold on Victor and the hero’s body crumpled lifelessly.

Yuuri caught him before he hit the ground, holding him up the best he could. Victor was taller than him, and his long body was listing dangerously. Yuuri could only cling to him, eyes locked on the youth standing several yards away.

Yuri had his legs spread slightly apart, and his shoulders were squared. He didn’t even seem to notice he smelt like week old garbage. His green eyes were hard and narrowed on the blood leaking from Victor’s leg, and when they fell onto Celestino they were practically unreadable.

“Pet take Victor to the van,” Celestino demanded, unfazed by Yuri.

Yuuri’s heart faltered because Yuri wasn’t Victor. He wasn’t a user, and he held no use for Celestino save for provoking Victor. Celestino had no reason to keep the youth alive the moment Yuuri drug Victor off the rooftop.

“No!” Yuuri screamed despite himself.

Celestino turned to glare as he growled, “What did you just say to me pet?”

Yuuri’s heart was now pounding dizzyingly between his ears. His hands were sweating, and his face felt hot but he couldn’t let Yuri die. Not again. Not for real.

“He’s just a child,” Yuuri said, “Beneath you. I can handle him easily enough.”

Celestino stared at him for a long moment, the silence stretching until the middle sagged from the weight of it all. Yuuri wished for the world to swallow him where he stood, but then Yuri would be left alone with Celestino so he kept his gaze fixated on the man before him.

And, to his surprise, Celestino turned away first.

“Make sure you do,” was what he said before he took Victor from his arms.

“No! Get your filthy arms off of him!” Yuri bellowed suddenly, launching forward with a surprising speed.

Yuuri barely caught him around the waist, holding him back from Celestino. Yuri withered in his arms hands reaching out like that was enough to claw Celestino’s face off. Yuuri just held him all the tighter.

“Let me go!” Yuri screamed as he bent and twisted, “Piggy, let me go! Victor! Stop! Bring him back! _Vitya!_ ”

Not once did Yuri ever strike against him. His face just seemed to be twisted in desperate need to free Victor, and he was too young. Yuuri hid a sob in the cleaner of the two shoulders as he felt the barrier that kept his ability underneath his skin drop.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri murmured before Yuri’s knees buckled and his eyes rolled in the back of his head; Yuuri laid him as comfortably as he could on the roof as he repeated, “I’m sorry.”

He pulled out Yuri’s phone, scrolling down until he found the contact he was looking for and sending a quick message before laying it beside Yuri’s unmoving figure, rising to his feet and following the path Celestino had taken Victor. Celestino was waiting for him outside the van, eyes cold and hard.

“Is it done?” he asked.

Yuuri met his gaze and lied, “Yes.”

{…}

Yuri opened his eyes and for the second time he found himself staring up at Otabek’s ceiling. His body felt strangely light, like he’d been floating until just then, and his clothes felt several sizes too big. It only took a moment before remembrance filtered in.

He jolted upright so quick it made his head spin, green eyes taking in his surroundings. It was the same room he’d been in after the van had exploded. Potya had been curled up at the foot of his bed, but she leapt upright at the sudden movement.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he crawled out of bed, legs crumpling under his weight. He landed on his knees hand gripping the sheets on the mattress as he breathed, “God dammit.”

He’d just managed to hoist himself back on the lip of the bed when the door swung open. Yuri didn’t want any visitors, though, so he twisted his head and closed his eyes. Victor had been right there- right _there_ \- and the man had still taken him.

“ _Mon chaton_!” the voice exclaimed, shortly followed by a hand to his knee and back, “Yuri! What happened? Otabek said you texted him, but you were unconscious and half froze when he finally found you.”

Yuri didn’t want to think about it- flying. Soaring. And then falling, plummeting towards earth and he’d thought ‘ _this is it, I’m going to die_ ’ except he hadn’t. The landing had hurt, and he’d felt something squish underneath his new weight but he’d survived.

None of that compared to what he felt when he saw Victor- limp and unconscious and bleeding- in the hands of the man who’d kidnapped him. Chris was waiting for an answer, though.

“It was a trap,” Yuri said.

Chris didn’t push, just sat patiently at his side. Yuri was grateful, mind spinning all over the place. He was on that rooftop. Then he was in that dumpster, desperate to free himself and save Victor. Then back on the roof, staring into Yuuri’s eyes and knowing he should hate him but didn’t- _couldn’t_.

Then he was here, sitting beside Chris. Isabella was standing in the doorway, eyes wide and knowing. He wasn’t sure when she got there but her presence was suddenly very unnerving.

“A man wanted Victor,” Yuri breathed, “He set a trap for him. I was the bait. _God damn it all to hell_ , I’m the reason he got him.”

Lips pressed gently against his temple as Chris whispered in his freshly washed and combed hair, “You can’t believe that.”

Yuri turned away. He didn’t want his comfort, didn’t want _him_. He wanted to move, to jump up and run and save Victor.

“Otabek said you’re probably going to experience serious fatigue. You were quite frozen when he found you,” Isabella piped up like she’d somehow read his mind.

Chris’s hand squeezed his in what he probably thought was supportive. Yuri jerked it away, folding it in his lap as he thrummed his fingers against his leg in thought.

“Is that Japanese idiot responsible?” Chris demanded.

“Yuuri isn’t an idiot,” Yuri snapped, “I saw it in his eyes on that rooftop. He was scared, and he was lost.”

To his surprise, Chris barked out a harsh laugh. Yuri jerked his head around to glare at the Frenchman, eyes narrowed and hard. Chris gave him a slight smirk in response.

“I’ve never seen you defend someone so readily,” Chris explained, “Besides Victor, of course.”

Yuri huffed in response, crossing his arms and looking away once more. Beside him Chris made a gentle sound, something between fond and exasperated. It seemed almost light.

“Victor was injured,” Yuri admitted and when he closed his eyes he could see it- red everywhere. Red _red red red_ -

A hand in his hair caught Yuri off-guard. He blinked owlishly, red fading as he glanced up

“It’ll be okay Yura,” Chris reassured that way adults did to traumatized kids, “Victor’s strong. He’ll be fine. Focus on you.”

Yuri didn’t want to be spoken to like some little kid. He’d already lived through that once, and he wasn’t going to lose Victor. People like Chris could never understand that however. He turned his head further away.

“I want to be alone,” Yuri said.

The hand disappeared from his head as Chris gave another sigh and breathed, “Okay.”

{…}

Victor woke up to a sharp pain in his leg. He gave a low whistling hiss as he gingerly sat up, observing the unfamiliar room. It was small, the bed he was lying on taking up most of the space, and painted in dark greys. It was kind of depressing.

Then he remembered he’d woken up in a world Yuri was no longer any part of. He didn’t even bother fighting the cold from overcoming him as he mentally sank in his grief.

{…}

“I brought you something to eat,” a quiet voice said from the doorway.

Yuri rolled over so he could stare at Otabek. His face was crinkled in that subtle way that meant he was worried and he was carrying a tray. Yuri rolled back over, too tired to be considerate even to Otabek. His stomach rumbled at the promise of food, but he hugged it securely and hid further under the covers.

“I’m not hungry.”

Otabek paused, eyes searching the scene for something Yuri wasn’t willing to give. He pulled the cover they’ve given him ( _for the cold Yura because you’re so delicate_ ) tighter around his shoulders. It didn’t help much with the cold, but it worked wonders in drowning the rest of the world out.

Chris had left several hours ago, promising to find Victor and bringing him home alive. He’d kissed the top of Yuri’s head and pleaded with him to be good and not the pain he usually was, the jab followed by a pinch in his side. It was meant to be good-natured and comforting, but all Yuri heard was that Chris was only helping Victor and not Yuuri.

( _Chris wasn’t on the roof. He hadn’t seen. Yuuri was as much prisoner as Victor, only he’s been trapped longer._ )

And it wasn’t Otabek’s fault but he was the one Yuri found himself punishing all the same.

“You’re going to talk about it,” Otabek decided.

Not ‘ _do you want to talk about it?_ ’ or ‘ _you’ll feel better but no pressure or anything_ ’ but ‘ _you’re going to._ ’ No questions, didn’t even bother to ask- probably because he knew the answer. Yuri jolted upright, cover slipping back down into his lap.

“Like hell asshole!” Yuri shouted, but Otabek didn’t seem fazed.

He set the tray on the small nightstand beside the bed, having made his way across the room on silent feet. He was frowning but not in that ‘I’m upset at you’ or ‘your words have consequences, you little prick.’ It was that frown he got whenever he was thinking about the world and the unfairness of it all.

It was a strange look- one he was unaccustomed to. It made him shied away, hiding his face behind a curtain of blonde.

“What’re you looking at like that?” he demanded, but his voice lacked his usual bite.

The mattress shifted underneath Otabek’s weight as he sat down beside him. The silence stretched on, but Yuri had been quick to learn the silences with Otabek were different than with other people. They weren’t tense or awkward or strenuous in that way they got with other people until finally Otabek gathered the words he wanted to say.

“I was just admiring your eyes,” Otabek said, “Eyes of a soldier.”

Yuri felt his face grow warm despite himself, the blush creeping along his pale skin like a rash. It made Otabek give a light chuckle, a fond sounding thing. That only seemed to incense the dark red forming along his skin.

“Shut up,” Yuri growled, “I don’t have to say anything to you.”

Otabek inclined his head back, gaze settling on the ceiling as his face morphed back into a serious mask as he replied, “On the contrary. I saved your life- twice now- the least you can do is tell me what I saved it from.”

Yuri sneered, “ _Bastard._ ”

Otabek grinned- sharp teeth and dark eyes- as he matched Yuri’s intense gaze without the fear or anger most people directed at him as he said, “Perhaps but this isn’t about me. The roof, Yuri.”

Yuri rolled his eyes and turned his head. He didn’t want to talk about it, could think of a million other things to speak with Otabek about, but his mind stalled. It seemed he’d managed to find himself a new nightmare.

Yuuri was there, standing still and desperate. He tried looking brave, tried looking like this was planned and that it didn’t bother him. Yuri saw the truth in his eyes, and he wished he had more time to explain it to Victor but his mouth was gagged and the man was twisting everything around and Victor’s eyes were growing dark and unfamiliar.

Then he was flying and the next thing he remembered was red. Red on Victor. Red leaving Victor and no- that wasn’t right. It belonged inside Victor. Inside not outside-

A hand on his knee drew Victor from his thoughts. Yuri blinked back at Otabek, hands fisted tightly in the sheets. He released a heavy breath, forced himself to relax suddenly all too aware of the warmth seeping from Otabek’s hand.

“It was a trap,” Yuri admitted, “I was the bait so of course Victor came. The man planned it all. All of it, and we just all wandered into it like idiots.”

“The man that’s not Yuuri?” Otabek asked.

Yuri nodded.

“But Yuuri knew him,” Otabek continued.

“He looked at him, and he was scared,” Yuri admitted before his head snapped up as he suddenly remembered something and added, “He spared my life, Beka. Why would he if he wasn’t on our side.”

Otabek’s eyebrow rose to his hairline as he asked, “Our?”

Yuri nodded once more. He needed Otabek to understand, _wanted_ him too. Otabek was silent for a long time, eyes drawn to a spot on the floor, before he finally sucked in a deep breath and nodded. Yuri released a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding, shoulders slumping in relief.

Otabek understood. That’s all that mattered.

“Beka,” he started but then the world swirled and shifted, a sharp pain striking the side of his skull.

Otabek’s dark expectant eyes was the last thing he remembered before he fell into the darkness.

{…}

“I brought you something to eat.”

Victor didn’t look up, didn’t _glance_ at him. Yuuri wasn’t even sure the man was aware that Yuuri was staring at him with such a pleading expression. Yuri was alive, but Victor didn’t know that. Victor _couldn’t_ know, if Yuuri hoped for the youth to stay that way.

Ice was crawling up the corners of the walls like a clear fungus, spreading in fancy fawn patterns along the floor and ceiling. No one could enter or leave by orders of Celestino, but Yuuri didn’t imagine most people lasting very long if they could.

He could spot Victor’s breath where he stood, leaving his mouth in white clouds. Victor made no indication of noticing the extreme cold. His hands were folded in his lap, spine painfully straight, as hard blue eyes gazed at the wall unseeingly.

Powerful user or no, however, Victor needs food and everybody else was far too frightened to approach the room. Even Celestino- though he’d never admit as much out loud.

Yuuri wasn’t scared of Victor. He was too busy worrying for him.

“Victor,” he tried, and that earned him a glare.

Victor didn’t say anything. Victor _hasn’t_ said anything since waking up. Thankfully they managed to doctor his leg while he was still unconscious so the risk of infection was low.

“You need to eat,” Yuuri repeated.

Victor’s blue eyes didn’t flicker from his face, but his face was an unreadable mask- a vastly different person than the one that allowed Yuuri to stay with him. To _trust_ him. Now he was a shell, and the look he gave Yuuri made shivers run down his spine.

“You could get ill,” Yuuri tried.

Victor turned his head. He didn’t have to speak for Yuuri to understand, and he swallowed past the growing lump in his throat. The thought of Victor hating him awoken something inside Yuuri, making his chest ache.

“Victor, _please_ ,” Yuuri begged but his voice cut out as tears welled in the corners of his eyes.

Victor didn’t acknowledge him. His eyes didn’t even flicker to where Yuuri stood, tray clutched in front of him. He didn’t have to look down to know he was shaking, knuckles bleached white from how tightly he was gripping the tray.

Victor, it seemed, was lost to him.

He opened his mouth to try again, but a soft cough from behind drew his attention. Victor had turned so his back was to them once more, Sara’s violet eyes flickering nervously to it like she was afraid even behind several inches of the strongest glass ever made wasn’t enough to protect them from Victor’s wrath. She probably wasn’t wrong.

“You’ve been conspiring,” she announced, eyes still fixated on Victor.

Yuuri wasn’t sure why but he suddenly shuffled to the side as if to protect Victor from this conversation. Even as his mind whirled, desperate to find a way to cover his tracks. If nothing else to save Yuri from anymore unnecessary pain.

“I don’t-” he started but his words seemed to startle Sara enough to turn her attention towards him.

“Emil has somehow received contact with the boy, Yuuri,” Sara said, “and you are well aware with what happens when Emil and nonusers mix.”

A shiver ran down Yuuri’s spine even as he mentally demanded: _What’d you do._ There was no answer, so Yuuri spun around to stare inside Victor’s prison. He couldn’t know like this- this wasn’t-

Victor’s back was tense and his hands were gripping his pants. His back was still turned so Yuuri couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine what it was like. He’d seen it enough in the mirror.

“Victor!” he shouted and probably would’ve rushed inside if Sara hadn’t suddenly latched onto his wrist.

“Are you crazy?! He’d kill you the moment you step through the door!” she snapped and, at one time, Yuuri would’ve believed her false.

At one time, Victor could never hurt a fly. Victor was sweet and docile, and Yuuri was the one who was going to end up hurting him- _had_ hurt him. Hurt him so bad he’d turn into this cold unforgiving creature before them.

“Victor listen to me!” Yuuri said but the glass was already frosting over; Victor was losing whatever self-control he had left.

“Victor, no!” Yuuri managed before Victor disappeared behind the wall of white and blue.

{…}

Victor was floating. He hadn’t floated in a long time though this time was admittedly different. This time he could feel just how little control he held over the situation.

He growled, fingers curling into tight fists. He was tired of playing other people’s games. He was tired of being a pawn, tired of following along three steps behind. It cost him Yuri. It cost him his identity. It cost him his freedom.

This was going to end.

He said nothing- words too good for these _child killing monsters_ \- just growled deeper in the back of his throat as he felt the ice prickle beneath his skin. He could already feel it already stretching behind him like a shadow, and if he was capable of anything other than this blinding hatred then he’d feel bad for the person waiting for him.

Then he heard his name.

His _real_ name, the one he’d lost when Yuri fell off that rooftop. Worst, he recognized the voice and _how cruel were his captors?_

His shoulders shifted, tense. The voice had caught him off-guard, but now that he’d recovered he was willing to _hurt_ the person causing this. Then it happened again- faint and confused and lost. It physically _ached_ to hear it.

He swallowed back that pain as he moved forward. One step in front of the other amongst all the darkness as the voice echoed around him mockingly.

_Victor_

_Victor_

_Victor_

Each name struck him in the chest, the last one drawing him to a halt. His ice exploded out from somewhere deep inside him as the darkness faded to white, his body becoming aware of the temperature plummeting to deadly cold while his mind remained above it all. Floating in this nothingness.

‘ _Victor you idiot!_ ’ the voice cried, closer now.

Victor shook his head, hands gripping his hair. He wasn’t sure what his body was doing anymore- a strange contradiction- but he knew that voice was dragging him back. It allows drew him back, even when he didn’t want it. Even when the voice was gone and this was people just _messing_ with him.

“Vitya!” it cried, and Victor spun to see him standing there.

He was as short and skinny as the day he fell, blonde hair washed and skin clear if not slightly pale. Identical to the day he died, save for the clothes. They were too big for him, hanging off his shoulders and hips and though Victor knew it was an illusion he couldn’t help but sob.

“You’re a rightful idiot old man,” the impersonation snapped, green eyes flashing with an anger Victor would’ve once believed could never be copied, “Getting yourself kidnapped. I know you better than that.”

Victor felt his head shake, hands quivering. It seemed his mind was finally catching up with the rest of him, and it was so cold.

“Don’t shake your head at me!” the fake snapped, “Why are you always so dense?” his eyes flashed, “You better not have gotten sick, you damned idiot.”

Victor’s knees buckled as his weakness caught up with him. He was so close, it was almost like he could reach out and touch him, and yet he knew the youth had surpassed to a place Victor will never reach. It brought tears to his eyes.

“What? Are you crying now?” the voice demanded.

Victor bowed his head because they didn’t deserve to see his tears. They didn’t deserve to see him break.

A foot reached out from the darkness and static, striking him in the shoulder. It hurt as it sent his body backwards, the sharp green cutting through the nothing and peering down at him. Victor could only stare, lost, as he fell through the nothingness, catching the last glimpse of a conversation before the world blinked out.

( _Did he touch Victor?_

 _Of course not._ )

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people were asking about the character death tag and, yes, someone is going to die. It's just unavoidable now... sorry not sorry.


	21. When You Wish Upon a Star, You Get Nothing but Crazy People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celestino makes his move and chapter summaries are hard.

Victor woke in the room on the bed he thinks he fell asleep on with memories clashing with one another. Yuri’s alive, glaring at him because Victor was an idiot. Yuri was dead and the world had grown several degrees colder. Yuri was alive, yelling at him. Yuri was dead. Alive. Dead-

He sat upright, skin tingling with the cold he’d created. The walls, ceiling and most of the floors was covered in a jagged carpet of ice. It twinkled in the artificial lighting, and he was aware of what that meant for the room’s temperature.

Anyone else would have frozen to death. The thought brought a smug sort of satisfaction to Victor. Then he thought of Yuuri and a frown touched the corners of his mouth.

Someone knocked on the glass.

“Victor? Are you hungry?” Yuuri’s voice asked from the other side, like he’d been called by Victor’s thoughts.

Victor’s stomach growled as affirmation, but Victor still had nothing to say to him. He’d trusted him- put him in his home around the things he cared most about- and because of that Victor lost.

“Victor, _please_ ,” Yuuri’s soft voice pleaded, the lost sound twisting something inside Victor’s chest, “I need to tell you something. It’s very important.”

Victor didn’t reply, though he did feel the ice on the glass keeping him imprisoned subside. He watched as the ice crawled in a circle, creeping until Yuuri’s pale face was revealed. His dark eyes were wide and pleading, and if Victor hadn’t lost that part of himself when Yuri fell then he was certain his heart would’ve shattered.

Yuuri didn’t deserve to look like that. Victor thought some part of him still knew that, but the other part- the dark part- just felt numb and cold and dazed. Still Yuuri’s face lit up at the sight of him.

“Victor,” he said hopefully.

Victor rose to his feet, aware his face was probably as dark and emotionless as he felt. A dangerous thing but Yuuri showed no sign of distress at that.

“Victor, you need to listen to me,” Yuuri continued either oblivious or stupid, “Whatever they tell you, don’t agree. You can’t-”

Victor reached the glass, placing his palm against the smooth surface. He could feel it crackle under his hand, the water shifting and freezing. Expanding and contracting, creating a long crack where Yuuri’s throat reflected on the other side.

Yuuri blinked, taking a step back. A hand came to rest upon the pale flesh of his throat like Yuuri understood. Victor didn’t bother waiting to see the shocked panic turn to frightened disgust or hatred.

He turned, ice growing back in the hole he’d created. Yuuri would notice, but that wouldn’t matter. He’d no longer have to pretend to care.

“Victor, Yuri is alive.”

{…}

Yuri woke with a gasp, temple pounding and skin crawling. It felt like ants had found themselves on his flesh: creeping and biting and _itching_.

Without thinking his hands were grappling at his skin as he lurched from the bed. The room spun, and his legs buckled, but that didn’t matter because he needed to get _these ants off of him_. He reached out blindly, knocking over the nightstand and shattering the lamp against the far wall.

Someone probably heard that. They _had to_ have heard that.

Yuri didn’t bother waiting for a response from a separate room. He managed to gather his feet underneath him and bolted towards the door. He’d seen it. Victor was there, and then he wasn’t. There were just ants- everywhere, all over his skin- and he needed to move.

The door swung open before his fingers touched it and hands reached out, groping and desperate and Yuri didn’t want-

He couldn’t-

He scrambled backwards, backpedaling on all fours. His eyes were open, but he couldn’t see anything. Victor had been there- right there- and then Yuri had to go and screw everything up like he always did. He’d kicked Victor, because it was Victor and Victor hadn’t looked like himself, and Victor tumbled backwards in the nothingness because of it.

“Yuri!” someone shouted.

That was real, he thinks. The voice but he was caught in a strange middle. The ants weren’t. The room was. Victor probably wasn’t. The voice was-

“Yuri!”

The voice screamed again and the hands found him and those were probably real as well.

He opened his mouth, a strange croaking sound escaping his lips. That may have been real, but the way the room was spinning probably wasn’t. The ants couldn’t be, but something inside his brain had fractured when Victor disappeared.

He’d been _right there_ \- blue eyes dark and cold and foreign- and Yuri had yearned to reach out and draw him to his chest. He hadn’t. He’d hit him, and Victor had tumbled backwards without saying anything.

“ _Yura!_ ”

Yuri blinked.

A hand- large and warm and callused from a lifetime of hardship- found the side of his face, and he felt his head clear somewhat. The room stopped spinning, and the ants died and all that was left was dark hair and dark eyes and tan skin.

“Beka?” Yuri heard himself ask, small and timid and frightened.

“It’s me Yura,” Otabek reassured- gentle and kind and caring- as his other hand found his other cheek; cupping Yuri’s face in his hands so they could stare in each other’s eyes.

“I-” Yuri started but his voice caught somewhere in his throat.

“It’s okay,” Otabek reassured, “You’re okay. You’re okay. I’m here. JJ and Isabella too. We’re here for you.”

Yuri blinked owlishly back. His head still throbbed and the ants had left a burning cold- like frostbite eating its way across his skin. He wanted to sink back into Otabek’s warmth, fall and never get up again but Victor still needed him. Yuuri still needed him.

“Yuri-”

“Chris?” Yuri managed, “Phichit?”

Those names were important. His numb mind knew that much, and slowly the rest of him was catching up as well.

“Chris left after the first time you woke,” Otabek explained as he dropped back to his ankles and stared at him with a confused furrow, “We haven’t heard from Phichit. Yuri, who’s Phichit?”

Yuri blinked once more. It was slowly returning to him.

Otabek has never met Phichit. He hadn’t met Chris, either, until recently and Yuri had spent that time unconscious and dreaming of Victor.

“Phichit is Chris’s roommate,” Yuri murmured, fingers curling and grasping at the soft flesh of Otabek’s arm.

Otabek nodded, dark eyes compassionate and as understanding as they were capable. He didn’t press and Yuri vaguely recalled Otabek sitting on the edge of his bed as Yuri recalled what happened on the roof. For some reason he was grateful for that.

“We need to contact him,” Yuri continued, thoughts choppy and he _hated_ that so he just continued to blink as he tried clearing his thoughts and speak coherent sentences simultaneously, “Phichit. He could be in danger. Beka.”

“Of course Yura,” Otabek agreed, “Anything you need, but you broke the lamp. You need to calm down, we’ll figure this out. Together, Yura. Look at me. Together. I promise.”

Yuri nodded because words were failing him. Otabek swallowed, keeping his face a neutral mask- almost as if he was frightened of traumatizing Yuri further. Yuri appreciated the effort.

That time, Otabek nodded with him.

“Okay.”

{…}

“I have a gift for you.”

Yuuri looked up from his spot in his chair to find Celestino staring at him in his doorway. He’d been given a room after Victor’s capture- one not meant for prisoners, but Yuuri felt trapped all the same. The only positive was that he had an excuse to stay near Victor, and Celestino had never found it necessary to interact with his pets.

“I couldn’t,” Yuuri started because that was usually the appropriate response with Celestino.

Celestino held out his hand as he cut him off, “I insist. Besides, I’ve already wrapped it up so nicely.”

Yuuri swallowed, uneasy feeling growing inside his stomach. Celestino wasn’t one to give things unless they somehow benefit himself. The look in his eyes certainly didn’t help matters.

Celestino stepped back, gesturing towards the hallway as he commanded, “Come.”

Yuuri rose to his feet, quick to obey. There was a cold in his stomach, icy and rotten and ill. He didn’t know what was waiting for him out in the hallway, but his fear of the man before him was much greater than his hatred.

Victor hadn’t been afraid. Victor had been angry- a storm on top that rooftop. Victor had pushed back, Victor had attacked Celestino, and Victor had almost won.

Victor was in front of him, only a thick pane of glass separating the two of them but his eyes were foreign and angry. Whatever Emil showed him triggered something inside his brain- the same thing he’d seen when Yuri fell from the roof. Whenever Yuuri closed his eyes he could still see the crack spreading across the glass, though sometimes it was skin and not crystal the crack stretched upon.

“I think you’ll enjoy my gift,” Celestino informed him as Yuuri followed close behind, “I must admit, I was apprehensive when I learned you moved in with two strangers. I thought you were growing soft, but then I learned Victor Nikiforov- your roommate- was none other than this self-proclaimed hero of St. Petersburg.”

Yuuri swallowed thickly at the implication. He supposed he should have figured it out, but then Victor would look at him and it wasn’t an expression of someone gazing upon a monster. At least, it hadn’t been.

Celestino stopped in front of a door, turning to face him once more. He crossed his arms behind his back as he stared down at Yuuri from the darkness. For reasons Yuuri has yet to understand, Celestino liked to keep his hallways shadowed.

Yuuri stared back, feeling painfully small and vulnerable. Against his will, his mind flashed back to when he first met Celestino. He’d been so young, so frightened of a world that looked at users as nothing but monsters and he’d been frightened of himself.

But then Celestino came and his powers disappeared and for the first time he hadn’t been afraid.

Celestino had reached out to him with a snake’s smile as he promised, “ _You don’t have to be afraid. I know what you can do and it is beautiful._ ”

Yuuri should’ve run then. He should’ve said ‘no’ and he should’ve hid. He should’ve informed his parents, his sister, someone. He should’ve, but he didn’t, and Celestino has punished him almost every day since.

“As an act of renewing our faith for one another, I’ve brought you this.”

The door opened and Yuuri’s breath caught in the back of his throat. His eyes flickered back and forth between the lump to Celestino’s stoic expression. He didn’t bother hiding his shock either- Celestino had been expecting it.

The lump twitched, moving so two dark orbs peered back at him from the darkness as it asked, “Yuuri?”

Yuuri took a step forward and Celestino didn’t stop him so he took another. Then another and another until he was kneeling beside his friend’s side.

Phichit’s normally dark skin had taken an ashen pallor, his cheekbones sunken and dried up blood made his hair stick out on the side of his head. When his eyes locked onto Yuuri’s face they were wild and feral and Yuuri was tired of seeing people he cared for look at him like that.

Yuuri spun to his feet, balling his hands at his side, as he snapped, “He has nothing to do with this, and you’d _promised_.”

Celestino’s lips twitched as he inquired with faux sweetness, “You don’t enjoy my gift?”

“I do whatever you want, and you don’t touch my family or Phichit,” Yuuri said as his anger clouded his sense, “That was the deal!”

“The deal was you steal me the Moon Crystal, so I can move on from this wretched little place,” Celestino said coolly, “and yet you’ve stalled. I was afraid your feelings blew you off course, so I got you something as a reminder.”

His eyes flickered to Phichit’s small form, and Yuuri shifted protectively between them. The movement made Celestino’s lips twitch once more.

“I take this _gift_ will help you remember your purpose, pet.”

Yuuri swallowed, hands balled into tight fists as he nodded stiffly. It felt robotic and unnatural, but that was all that was left inside him at the moment. This wasn’t a gift- this was a reminder to just how trapped they all were.

{…}

_Yuri is alive._

Victor rolled over, the words bouncing around inside his head. He wasn’t sure if he believed them or not. Yuuri had no reason to lie, but he’d done but lie to him since they met.

_Yuri is alive._

Victor closed his eyes, clinging to the hope that the words inside his skull was true and not some fabricated lie as sleep claimed him.

{…}

Yuri was sitting in the bed, blanket tucked around his waist and hands folded on top of that. His back was pressed against the wall, and his eyes were open, but they were staring at nothing. They had been staring at nothing once he discovered Phichit was missing- presumed to have shared the same fate as Victor.

( _And Yuuri_ ) Yuri had protested before falling silent.

“Has he fallen ill?” JJ had asked but Isabella had shushed him, taking his hand in her own.

Otabek was grateful to see they had gotten over whatever came between them, though Otabek wasn’t foolish enough to think it hadn’t been Yuri who’d come between them. The same Yuri whose green eyes were blank and lifeless, sitting in one of Otabek’s spare rooms.

Otabek took the spot next to Yuri on the bed. He couldn’t blame him- not when Yuri has seen far more than any user or any child should. Younger than all of them and it had only been a matter of time before Yuri lived through too much. That Yuri had been pushed too far.

Otabek said nothing as he shifted so his own back was pressed against the wall and his shoulder was touching Yuri’s. He said nothing, legs laid flat before him as he stared at the wall Yuri had taken to. It was mostly bare- only an empty vanity was pressed against it.

The vanity had once been his mother’s, Otabek thinks, but he’d emptied it when she passed. It was one of the few things he’d brought from home.

Yuri’s hand closed around Otabek’s, though his eyes never shifted. Otabek glanced at him, frowning, but Yuri’s expression never shifted and his eyes remained the same dull green but this time he noticed the underlying strength. A green flame burning just beneath the wall he’d put up.

Otabek shifted his head so it was facing palm up. He interlocked their fingers, and Yuri was quick to follow. It seemed Yuri was still with them after all.

The silence stretched between the two of them. Otabek didn’t dare break the silence. Whatever was ailing Yuri, he’ll tell Otabek in his own time. Otabek just wished he could make it better in the meantime- remembering the frantic look in Yuri’s eyes.

“There’s something inside my head,” Yuri said suddenly, “and I don’t know how it got there. Or even what it is.”

Otabek squeezed the hand in his own. Yuri didn’t jerk it free so Otabek counted it as a win.

Yuri barked out a harsh laugh as he continued wetly, “Victor is gone, and I’m worried about myself- what a joke.”

“We’ll figure this out,” Otabek swore despite knowing he shouldn’t make promises he couldn’t keep, “All of it. _Together._ ”

Yuri released a heavy breath, and he wasn’t crying but his eyes were wet. Otabek gave his hand another tight squeeze. Yuri’s gaze focused back into that dead stare as he blankly stared at the wall.

“And I’m not letting anything happen to you,” Otabek added turning to stare seriously at Yuri, “You’re my friend and I won’t-”

“Won’t what?” Yuri demanded, eyes snapping in his direction.

“This person that’s kidnapped Victor and frightened Yuuri into submission, whoever he is. The person that sent innocent users on our school and stolen Phichit from his apartment. The person that threw you off a building. I’m not letting him touch you. Not anymore,” Otabek swore.

Yuri’s face softened slightly at the confession.

“Just don’t die yourself, idiot,” he finally snapped, words void of any real fire.

Otabek’s lips twitched upwards as he bent over to plant a soft kiss onto his forehead as he agreed, “Always.”

{…}

If Yuri was alive then he was alone. Victor had been all he’d had- the only family for five years of his life. That meant if Yuri had somehow survived being thrown off the building then he was alone in St. Petersburg with a crazed maniac targeting it for whatever reason.

Victor suddenly wasn’t sure if he wanted Yuri to have survived.

{…}

Victor returned in his dreams.

This time was slightly different. Everything was still black, darkness that could swallow someone whole but not Victor. Victor was like a beacon- shining at him like a light, calling him. Yuri ignored it, standing and watching.

Victor was on his side, stretched out like a cat seeking warmth from the sun. He had his hands folded under his head, pressed against his cheek and his eyes were closed but Yuri hasn’t lived with him these past years and not be able to tell when he was feigning sleep.

Fawns of ice was spreading out underneath Victor’s body, stretching and disappearing somewhere in the darkness. That was new.

“Victor,” Yuri called.

Victor didn’t move, but Yuri knew he heard. Somehow the person inside Yuri’s head was connecting the two of them. Yuri didn’t know why, didn’t understand the purpose, and he didn’t care. Victor wasn’t going to be anyone’s fucking pawn.

“I know you can hear me, you damned fool,” Yuri snapped impatiently, crossing his arms in front of him and suppressing a shiver.

It was like this time last time. Unbearably cold and he didn’t have to guess on the cause. They were hurting Victor, playing with him, and Yuri was losing him because of it. Yuri refused to lose Victor.

Victor moved.

Blue eyes flickered open, a bright pulsing blue that made the temperature in the room drop several degrees. Yuri wasn’t fazed. He hadn’t feared Victor in a long time.

“You’re a stupid, stupid man,” Yuri screamed, anger coming easily for him, “Allowing yourself to become kidnapped like some _distressed damsel_.”

Victor snorted, lips lifting upwards as he sat upright. He must have been on a bed, but Yuri couldn’t see it. All he saw was Victor and that lifeless expression void of anything humane or good or _Victor_. Yuri would’ve kicked him again, if he wasn’t afraid of losing him to the darkness again.

“You said that last time,” Victor informed him coldly, “I must say you are quite convincing. You even have his moodiness.”

Yuri’s spine bristled as he straightened his shoulders and managed, “I am _not_ moody.”

Victor snorted like he was amused. He wasn’t so Yuri figured that meant he still didn’t believe Yuri was himself.

_What have they done to you Vitya?_

“You were so young,” Victor admitted, “I’m sorry I couldn’t have saved you.”

Something leaden sunk in Yuri’s stomach. He felt the bottom of it drop, plummeting down to his shoes and it wasn’t the first time he felt anger bubbling up at the unfairness of this world. Users were prosecuted and were still saddled with the responsibility of saving everyone.

“Like I need saving from an idiot like you,” Yuri growled, channeling his anger in his voice in hope that Victor would hear it and remember because Yuri wasn’t sure he could do this without him.

Victor’s chuckle was harsh and dry as he folded his hands together and stared down at them. His eyes had shifted from hard to sad. Two emotions Yuri never wished upon Victor’s face- even before when Victor had been so cruel.

“You never seemed to have needed my protection. You were always so strong, so resilient and I forgot that you were still human. A young one at that,” Victor said, “and when you needed me most I wasn’t there, and I’m sorry for that.”

Yuri straightened his spine and squared his shoulders as he claimed boldly, “You want to be there for me Vitya? Stop whatever this is. You’re not your ability so _quit acting_ like it.”

The words must have sprung something inside Victor’s head- if there was anything left at all- as his head snapped up and blue eyes widened. It wasn’t surprise Yuri saw in them however. It was something else.

“ _Koneko-chan_ ,” Victor breathed.

Yuri’s shoulders slumped at the nickname. The fact Victor had said it in Russian meant that his mind really was fracturing. Teetering dangerously on an edge only Victor could see and feel. Yuri was determined to pull him back all the same.

Yuri smiled softly as he nodded and agreed, “Yeah, Victor. It’s me.”

Victor rose to his feet, eyes never leaving Yuri’s. They were soft and hopeful and Yuri steeled himself for what he knew was coming.

“ _Yura?_ ” Victor demanded, voice returning from the void as his eyes looked at him with a different expression than before.

Yuri nodded as his head started to spin. The darkness blurred, swirling around Victor. It darkened out his pale features, making his blue eyes shift back to that ugly dark color. Yuri wanted to reach out and slap that look from his face.

He didn’t, though. He stood rooted to the spot as the darkness started to consume him. It shifted to the ants, biting at his soft flesh and slowly started to swallow him whole. He couldn’t even scream- couldn’t move- as he stared at Victor across the darkness.

“Yuri? What happened? Where are you?” Victor demanded, ignorant to the ants crawling over Yuri.

Yuri found his voice enough to manage, “I’m with Otabek. We’re going to find you.”

“No!” Victor shouted, jumping to his feet.

Yuri couldn’t see his feet however. Not when the shadows were eating at his feet, but still Victor moved like he couldn’t feel it. Couldn’t see it.

“No,” Victor repeated as Yuri stared wide-eyed at him, “Stay where you are. I’m fine, Yura. I promise.”

Yuri wanted to protest. Wanted to call Victor dumb, shake his head in denial- to do _anything_ useful. Instead he could only stare frozen and wild eyed as the darkness swallowed Victor.

“Yuri!” Victor shouted before Yuri bolted upright, Isabella standing at the side of his bed.

Yuri frowned up at her. This wasn’t right. His mind was too sluggish to pinpoint what exactly was wrong, but he _knew_ it wasn’t right.

He opened his mouth- maybe to demand answers from her or perhaps to ask what was wrong with him- but it got stuck in his throat. He could only stare back at her.

“Get up,” she ordered as she drug him from the bed by his bicep, “Get _up_ , Yuri. They’re here. They’ve found us.”


	22. Fairy Tales Don't Exist, You Should Know Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Celestino's game, and everybody else is pawns. It really is that simple.
> 
> But then there's Victor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo sorry about the delay with the chapter. School is hard and free time is precious and the next chapter may take equally as long at the least. Hope you can all still enjoy anyways.

“Phichit, what happened?” Yuuri asked as he returned with some old bread and a cup of something amber colored and smelt like paint thinner but had alcohol in it and Phichit looked like he could use some alcohol.

Phichit scrubbed at his face, his wrists already bruising from where they had bound him. The sight made Yuuri’s stomach turn sour and he had to resist the urge to get sick in front of his friend. Phichit didn’t need him to be weak. Phichit needed him to be strong.

“ _Phichit?_ ” Yuuri inquired, voice taking on a desperate keen.

Dark eyes stared back at him, Phichit’s otherwise handsome features sunken and dirty and the sight made Yuuri’s heart twist painfully. Phichit didn’t deserve this. He was only there because of Yuuri.

_Stupid. Worthless Traitor._

“Chris got a call from somebody I didn’t know,” Phichit explained as he moved his arms around his chest and squeezed for warmth, “He left saying it was urgent. He wouldn’t tell me anything else, but I heard Yuri’s name. Or your name. I don’t even known anymore.”

Yuuri crossed his legs and said, “It was the other Yuri. Celestino needed a trap and decided to use Yuri as bait.”

Phichit’s dark eyes found Yuuri’s then. Intelligent eyes seeking out words of comfort from Yuuri. Trusting and needy even after all this, and Yuuri’s throat closed up at the realization. He wasn’t worthy. He was the _reason_ Phichit was here.

Slowly Phichit’s head bobbed as if in understanding before he continued, “Chris told me to lock the door, and I did. Turns out he doesn’t need a door. Next thing I knew I was here.”

Phichit shivered as his words teetered off. Yuuri stripped off his coat and draped it over his friend’s shoulders without much thought. He wasn’t even consciously aware of what he was doing until Phichit glanced up at him.

“What’re you doing Yuuri?” Phichit murmured, voice small and frightened and sickly.

He couldn’t have been here very long, but Celestino had placed him in one of the rooms cut off from the vents and without a fireplace it was dependent solely on the weather. Unfortunately the weather was always cold and Celestino hadn’t bothered to offer Phichit any blankets.

Phichit’s skin had already started to grow warm and clammy to the touch, something Yuuri felt even after Phichit drew away.

“You’re sick,” Yuuri said, “You need to stay warm.”

Phichit laughed, which turned into a fit of coughing. He curled away from Yuuri as if frightened of passing it on as his shoulders hunched over and his entire body seized with his hacking. And every time Yuuri reached out to comfort him, Phichit drew further away.

“No,” his friend managed weakly, “I can’t risk giving you this. You need your strength. I don’t.”

“You’ll catch your death,” Yuuri protested, “Phichit, _please_.”

Phichit only shook his head, body evidently very weak as he continued to shiver violently. Yuuri continued to reach out, begging and needy, but Phichit managed to claw Yuuri’s proffered jacket from his shoulders and shoved it back in his face.

“You can’t,” Phichit coughed as he shook his head, “You can’t. Yuuri, why can’t you see that?”

Yuuri gathered the jacket from where Phichit had shoved it at him and went to wrap it around his shoulders once more. Phichit gave a low whine as he feebly pawed at the thing. The cold, it seemed, was sapping his strength faster than his sickness.

“I’m not going to lose you Phichit. That isn’t an option. You hear me?” Yuuri snapped back, but Phichit just continued to shake his head weakly.

“This is what he wants, Yuuri. He’s toying with you. Why can’t you see that?” Phichit demanded, though most of the heat was suppressed by the way his entire body seized once more from the cold.

“I do see that Phichit. I do. I promise, but that changes nothing. I’m not letting you die,” Yuuri claimed firmly.

Phichit made a low noise in the back of his throat, hands dropping limply at his sides. Dark eyes continued to stare back at him, and Yuuri reached out to brush dark strands of stray hair from Phichit’s face. His touch sent new shivers down Phichit’s spine.

Yuuri’s hand snapped back as if burned. Phichit flashed him a weak smile, teeth white amongst the shadows, as his head dropped to the side.

“I’m sorry,” Phichit murmured as his eyes fluttered shut.

He didn’t even see Yuuri shake his head in protest or hear what he had left to say. He just suddenly went limp, chest rising up and down in steady breaths as his illness finally took over.

{…}

Yuuri- the wrong ( _right?_ ) one- came to him that afternoon, and this time it wasn’t under the pretense of bringing him food. His hands were empty, and his eyes were clouded, and it was a very un-Yuuri like expression.

“The ice has faded,” was the first thing he noted, eyes shifting around Victor’s room.

Victor had lit the fireplace after his dream of Yuri. Even after it had faded, and Victor had woken up feeling the angry way those pale green eyes cut through him led him to lighting one. It had worked, for the most part. The heat had quickly spread, melting everything it touched. It still did nothing for the cold buried deep inside Victor.

“Fire has a tendency to do that,” Victor agreed offhandedly, and he watched Yuuri’s entire being perk up at the sound of Victor speaking.

_You’re not your ability so quit acting like it._

Victor resisted the urge to bow his head and hide behind his thoughts. Yuuri looked as if he had something important to speak with him about, and Yuri’s serious expression as he told him to re-gather himself if he wanted to save him still burned behind his eyelids.

Yuuri shuffled from one foot to another as he asked, “Does the heat not make you sick? On account of your ability?”

Victor locked eyes with him as he said coolly, “My ability does not define me. Now, is there something you wish to speak with me about or are you here just to gloat?”

Yuuri’s eyes widened as he took the expression of a kicked puppy. He straightened his back and squared his shoulders instinctively, brown eyes hurt in a way Victor supposed he’d unfairly put it there. Yuuri didn’t say anything, either, mouth just opening and closing like a floundering fish.

Victor gave a low sigh as he met Yuuri’s expression a bit calmer as he tried, “What is it, Yuuri?”

Yuuri swallowed, brown eyes never leaving him. Before Victor might have felt a pulsing anger towards the person who put that expression on Yuuri’s face. The realization that it was him was harder to swallow than he anticipated.

Victor didn’t say anything else, didn’t really trust what would come out of his mouth next. So he waited for Yuuri to regain his sense and speak.

The silent stretched on for so long Victor worried Yuuri may never speak ever again but then Yuuri opened his mouth and said, “Phichit is here. Celestino brought him to remind me where my faith needs to lie.”

Of all the things Victor thought Yuuri _could_ say that was most certainly not one of them. Worst is that he really liked Phichit, who’d befriended Yuri so quickly and was always quick to smile. Not the smiles Victor was used to- a real genuine smile. It was no wonder Chris took to him so quickly.

Anger started gnawing at Victor’s insides at the thought of the reporter being used to manipulate Yuuri.

“Is he alright?” Victor asked, voice back to being hard and cold as the ice started creeping along the crack he’d created along the pane of glass in a moment of anger.

Yuuri adopted a reluctant expression as he admitted, “He’s alive, but he’s sick Victor. It’s cold where Celestino put him and I don’t think he’s going to last very long and _I_ -”

He broke off in a sob, the sound shocking Victor into moving. His hand reached out, fingers splayed along the wall separating him from Yuuri. Yuuri didn’t seem to notice, fat tears tumbling down his cheeks as he thought of how he was going to lose Phichit.

“Nobody is going to die,” Victor vowed, “Not here.”

Yuuri only shook his head, smudging the tears all over his face in a poor attempt at drying his eyes as he admitted, “That’s not what I came to tell you.”

Victor frowned, slightly annoyed. He was sure it shone in his eyes, but Yuuri didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were clouded over with thought- either from worry for his friend or something else entirely.

Yuuri sucked in a deep breath before admitting, “Celestino knows Yuri is alive, and I think he’s planning on using him like he’s currently using Phichit.”

Victor’s brain stuttered to a stop.

Yuri, it seemed, was alive but might not be for long. The thought sent ice creeping along the glass; Yuuri eyed it apprehensively.

“It’s highly probable Celestino is going to attempt using Yuri to get you to join his side,” and Yuri had never been fond of the notion of Victor doing things because of him. He was going to hate this.

“I pity Celestino then,” was what Victor said- fond smile tugging on his lips at the thought of someone attempting to control Yuri.

To Yuuri’s credit, he didn’t look surprised or disappointed. His face morphed into an unreadable expression as he tipped his head slightly forward. His eyes never left Victor’s.

“Celestino won’t need all of Yuri to manipulate you,” Yuuri pointed out and he was right- some part of Victor’s brain acknowledged that thought but most of his just turned cold at the words.

The crack in the glass spread slowly- threateningly- as Victor practically growled, “Just let him.”

This time Yuuri didn’t look hurt or even threatened. He just had this knowing expression on his features, and Victor remembered Phichit and he sucked in a deep breath to calm himself. Yuri was fine. He was alive, and apparently necessary in the maniac’s plot, and resourceful. He’ll be fine- better than Victor was currently.

“I want to see him,” Victor said to break the silence he created, “If Celestino can somehow drag him to whatever hellhole this place is, I want to see him.”

Yuuri puckered his lips but nodded nevertheless. Victor nodded back. Slow. Deliberate. It wasn’t quite trusting, but a small understanding seemed to pass between them. Under any other circumstance Victor might have found the situation amusing- that the one person who seemed so against Victor and Yuuri was the same person that bridged some of the gap that was created on that rooftop.

Yuuri broke the connection first, dark eyes flickering to the ice crawling along the glass like it was alive as he said, “I need something from you first.”

{…}

“Let me go you spineless bastard!” the voice cried, echoing around the dark space.

Phichit lifted his head, the room spinning at the simple motion. Yuuri’s jacket was wrapped around his shivering shoulders because he’d been too weak to remove it. He felt like his head had been stuffed with cotton, and it took so much effort to think much less comprehend most of the things happening around him.

That voice he recognized however, and the thoughts it brought along made his flesh crawl.

“Where are you even taking me you son of a whore?” it demanded, and Phichit used the wall he’d been previously leaning against to rise to shaking legs.

The door opened with a loud metallic screech and a small bundle on blonde and green was shoved inside before it slammed closed. That didn’t prevent Yuri from lunging at the door, fists banging against it in anger as a small growl escaped his throat.

“Where’d you take the others you cowards?” Yuri demanded, fists banging against the door evidently not noticing Phichit.

Phichit wrapped his arms around his stomach, the act of standing enough to make the room spin and legs shake. Not to mention the wall seemed to sap what precious warmth he had.

“Yuri?” he asked, voice a weak croak.

Yuri spun around, green eyes burning. When they landed on him they seemed to flare up momentarily before dying into a concerned expression. He looked at him like Yuuri had, and Phichit tried not to linger on how they both regarded him as one would a dying man. Instead he focused on standing as tall as he could manage.

If only the rest of him could get the memo.

His knees buckled and a small cry of pain escaped his lips as he was suddenly tumbling downwards. Hands caught his descent, however, and he blinked blurrily up at Yuri’s pale expression.

“What the hell have they done to you?” Yuri spat, eyes back to smoldering furiously.

Phichit couldn’t find the strength to speak so he shook his head. Technically nobody has done anything to him. The cold had just sapped his strength until he had nothing to fight off the building sickness inside him.

Yuri guided him back to the ground, stripping off his jacket and bundling it up in a tight ball. Phichit didn’t have any strength to do anything except comply to the gentle hands that laid him down, Yuri’s jacket supporting the back of his neck and head.

“You can rest now,” Yuri informed him from above, where he sat hands on his knees and back rigid, “I’ll protect you.”

Phichit wanted to laugh but found he couldn’t. He just wheezed out a pathetic noise that quickly turned into a fit of coughing. Yuri helped him sit up so he could lean against his side until the coughing stopped, then he was back to staring up at the ceiling.

“I should be the one protecting you,” Phichit noted as the silence seemed to grate on his nerves, “I am older.”

Yuri snorted behind his hand, and when he looked at him his expression was soft, and he was smiling, and Phichit couldn’t _handle_ that right now. Yuri has always seemed so abrasive- an internal barrier Phichit will never be able to conquer- but now he looked so young and innocent and there was _no way_ it was the same person.

“Get better first and then we’ll see,” Yuri said with a shrug.

Phichit found himself unable to do anything else but stare. Yuri either didn’t notice or never said anything as he turned to face the door, back straight and rigid almost as if he was expecting trouble. Phichit figured he should’ve but more thought into that, but then he was drifting- floating and he couldn’t remember why he needed to be on guard.

He woke to screaming.

More specifically- he woke to _Yuri_ screaming and in his numbed slumber he hadn’t been able to discern between angry screaming and injured screaming. He jolted awake, but since his body was weak he couldn’t do much more than just roll over and stare helplessly as dark figures drug the flailing body towards the rectangle of light in the wall.

“ _Stop_ ,” he whispered but nobody heard him over the sound of Yuri’s cursing, “Let him go. _Stop._ ”

Nobody even seemed to realize he was there.

Yuri disappeared somewhere amongst the light before the door slammed shut, sealing Phichit back into his solitude. He felt himself start to shake, and it had nothing to do with the cold. They’d taken Yuri. He’d been five feet away, and they’d _still_ taken him.

“ _Dammit!_ ” he barked, and it was the sharpest thing he’s gotten past his throat since waking up in this room.

Somehow he managed to get his arms and knees underneath him so he kept going- ignoring how the motion sent dark spots across his vision. He kept going until he was on his feet, hand blindly groping at the wall for support. His heavy breathing was the only sound he could hear, and once he was certain he had everything under control he started forward.

He made it maybe three shaky steps forward before the dots consumed the rest of his vision, and he spiraled- unconscious before his head ever collided with the floor.

{…}

“Get your hands off of me you pickled dick-” something musty and rough was shoved into his mouth, cutting off the rest of his curse.

That didn’t stop Yuri, however, as he switched to just screaming behind the gag. He didn’t recognize the people dragging him down the hall, and he didn’t care very much where they were planning on taking him. All he saw was Phichit’s ashen face, and the way his skin burned underneath Yuri’s hands.

Phichit was dying, and nobody seemed to care. They had just thrown him in some dark room and _left_ him there. The thought had Yuri twisting in the hold once more- desperate and angry and he barely noticed the way his skin had started to crawl as the surprising cold took hold of him. Then it became almost distracting, and he felt himself go limp.

Russia was cold, but this was different. This was a supernatural type of cold.

Yuri recognized this cold, and it frightened him more than he’ll ever verbally admit. Still the hands drug him, heels digging in the soft stone floor as the air seemed to grow colder and more frigid and all Yuri could think was how he needed to escape.

The cold burrowed itself inside his bones, though, and it was quickly sapping him of his energy. His mind flashed to Phichit- hot and sick and dying in that dark space- to the frightened gleam in Isabella’s eyes as she shook him awake.

JJ hadn’t been there when she finally got Yuri out of the bed, and the rest of them didn’t make it very far before Yuri felt the ants started to nip at his flesh. After that everything was a blur of colors and shapes and screaming- probably mostly his own- and then nothingness for a long time.

This sensation was similar to what he felt then. Invisible ants gnawed at his skin, leaving a burning pain behind. It crawled up his skin and made his vision blur as the cold buried itself inside his bones and refused to let go.

Yuri’s eyes slipped closed, and he was floating in that dark space once more. The difference was that Victor wasn’t there. He was alone.

Then he blinked, and he was stumbling forward as the hands shoved him forward. The cold ate at his skin, kissing the places the ants had bitten. Despite it all, Yuri hugged his center and shivered.

“ _Yura?_ ” a familiar voice called and Yuri spun- wild-eyed and confused- to look at Victor.

Victor was on his feet, and he looked _terrible_. His skin was a stark white, making his usually vivid blue eyes practically luminescent. He was dressed in simple white pants and a shirt of the same color that seemed to hang from his thin frame.

He looked sick and yet the same time refreshed. New. Yuri was quick to decide he didn’t like this version of Victor.

Victor didn’t seem to notice. His face adopted a soft expression- a mockery of the looks he usually gave Yuri. A mask of the person he used to be.

“ _Koneko-chan_ ,” Victor said, stepping forward.

Yuri took a step back, hands clasped around his middle and eyes narrowed into an irritated expression. Victor was _right there_ , and Yuri should’ve been overjoyed upon seeing him but the cold was creeping somewhere deep inside him and he wanted to get away.

Victor’s face fell as he adopted that hurt expression that would put kicked puppies to shame. His shoulders slumped and he seemed to grow impossibly small and vulnerable. Yuri instantly felt bad, which vexed him.

“What have you done Victor?” Yuri demanded.

Victor’s eyes were sad- which was a setup from the hard mask he usually wore when he got like this- but he didn’t dare to attempt moving forward again.

“I- Yuri I thought you’d died,” Victor murmured in a desperate keen, “Yuuri betrayed us. He’s working with Celestino. I-”

Anger flashed somewhere deep inside Yuri.

“You’re an idiot Victor Nikiforov,” Yuri snapped without thinking; Victor- to his credit- just blinked blue eyes owlishly back, somehow looking confused and hurt at the same time and that only made the weight inside Yuri’s chest increase.

He released a heavy huff despite feeling overwhelmingly bad and he alternated between crossing and uncrossing his arms. He’s never felt awkward around Victor before- even when Victor proclaimed how much he didn’t want him around- and the fact that it was now bothered him more than he thought it should.

It was just everyone was so quick to blame Yuuri. They were so quick to discern that he betrayed them, and that it was his plan the whole time. They hadn’t seen him on that rooftop.

“I’m sorry,” Yuri gritted out settling on leaving his arms at his side as he focused on one of the bed’s corners, “Yuuri didn’t betray us.”

Victor was silent a long time. Yuri refused to look at him, not wanting to see what he knew was waiting for him on Victor’s face. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t strong enough. He wasn’t-

Arms consumed him suddenly in a hug. He’d been so distracted by his thoughts that he hadn’t heard Victor approach, and that was so unlike him. He silently berated himself, but it wasn’t until that moment that he realized just how deprived of warmth he’s been.

Subconsciously he sank into Victor’s warmth, hands gripping at the fabric of whatever clothes they’ve dressed Victor in since Yuri’s last seen him until his knuckles turned white. Victor only held him all the tighter, cheek pressed against his hair.

Victor pulled away first, and that was only to press his forehead against the top of Yuri’s head so he could whisper, “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I haven’t been thinking straight since I saw you- since I was convinced you died.”

Yuri scrunched his face tighter together because that wasn’t right. Victor shouldn’t ever have those thoughts, and Yuri had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t be the reason of Victor losing control. He could never hurt Victor like that, and yet he had, and now innocent people had paid the price and _oh God_ -

“Shh, Yura,” Victor’s warm breath whispered in his ear suddenly, “Deep breathes. You can do this. In. Out. Just like me. You’re right,” and it was so lame having a panic attack at that moment.

Yuri shoved at Victor’s chest, trying to detangled himself. Trying to get away but Victor was _right there_ and warm, and he couldn’t breathe and it was so cold, and Phichit was going to die, and Victor was going to hate Yuuri forever because of _him_. Victor only clung all the tighter.

“Yura no. You need to breathe. Come on. Please,” he whispered gently even as he clung tightly against Yuri.

Then, like a switch, calm settled over him. His breathing settled back to normal, and it was as if someone stuffed cotton inside his brain as he felt his body turn loose inside Victor’s hold. He sank into the older man’s arms.

“Yuuri,” Victor said in his ear and for the briefest moment he thought he was speaking to him.

Then the other Yuuri explained quickly, “I used to have panic attacks all the time growing up. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s alright Yuuri,” Victor promised, cheek back against his hair and arms hugging him securely, “Thank you.”

Yuri didn’t get to see Yuuri’s response and the Japanese man didn’t reply verbally but he liked to imagine Yuuri gave Victor a knowing nod and perhaps a smile and that everything was okay again. He’d wake up beside Victor because Yuuri was a room stealing pig, and Victor would chaste him for calling Yuuri names, and everything would be normal.

 _Fairy tales don’t exist kid_ , a voice that wasn’t Yuri’s whispered in the back of his head as the ants started creeping along his skin.

Yuri shivered- a violent spasm of motion that made his muscles constrict tightly. Victor gave him a confused look, but too much was happening and the only thing that had previously been keeping him conscious was his spite but the cold was slowly sapping even that from him.

“Vitya I-” he slurred, and it didn’t quite make sense but that was okay because he was unconscious a moment later.

{…}

Victor looked worried. Yuuri was worried. He only wanted Yuri to calm down- not pass out.

“Victor I-” he started but there was nothing to say that wasn’t an excuse.

Victor easily lifted Yuri up, taking him to the bed and wrapping him tightly in the covers. He carefully moved his limps in the most comfortable position with one hand as he smoothed rebellious blonde hair with the other.

“This wasn’t you,” Victor whispered and it was the closest ‘ _this wasn’t your fault_ ’ Yuuri would accept; Yuuri nodded.

He didn’t think Victor saw him, but Victor seemed to understand anyways. His hand subconsciously flattening Yuri’s blond hair as blue eyes watch the steady rise and fall of the teenager’s thin chest. The harsh lines Yuuri had noticed slowly creeping across Victor’s face since bringing him here had softened considerably.

Yuuri found himself staring, captivated by Victor’s beauty. It wasn’t the first time his brain has noted that Victor was attractive, but this time seemed different. All the rough edges and harsh lines just seemed to melt back under his beauty but was undoubtedly still there. If Yuuri looked hard enough he could still see it.

For whatever reason, that thought made Yuuri’s chest equally tight and warm. He knew, logically, that Victor wasn’t a thing for someone to lock away and observe. He also knew that Celestino hadn’t brought him here to stare nor did he offer Yuri back because he was gracious or kind. Yuuri also knew the reason he came here wasn’t going to please Victor.

Yuuri sucked in a deep breath, gathering his confidence.

“Victor,” Yuuri started, “I’m going on a mission soon, but there’s something I need to tell you first.”

Victor didn’t look at him, and his hand didn’t pause nor did his eyes shift from Yuri’s prone form, but he said, “Do whatever you feel you need to do, Yuuri.”

And Victor didn’t sound angry or bitter. He just sounded tired and old and _done_ , and Yuuri hated it. It made his chest burn for a completely different reason and head swim and Victor didn’t deserve this. Victor deserved to be happy and healthy and far away from all of this, and Yuri deserved to not look like he was moments from breaking.

They deserved to be safe, and they weren’t, and that was on Yuuri.

“Celestino wants the Moon Crystal,” Yuuri continued to speak because Victor deserved to know what he’d been drug into, “I’m going to go retrieve it for him.”

Victor didn’t even seem to notice what he was saying, but he must have because he asked, “You and that woman?”

Yuuri swallowed, throat tight.

“Sara is staying here to ensure the others don’t try to escape,” Yuuri explained, “It’ll be me, Leo, Seung-gil and Leroy.”

Victor’s face darkened and his heart stopped smoothing out Yuri’s hair. For the first time since Yuri fell unconscious Yuuri was grateful he wasn’t awake to hear of the betrayal. Yuuri hadn’t been eager to tell them, but they had deserved to know.

The glass made a funny sound- ice scraping against the smooth surface. Yuuri steeled his shoulders and refused to flinch or back away.

The sound disappeared as quickly as it came with the sound of Yuri’s soft muttering. Victor went back to soothing him, face void of previous emotion. Yuuri stood still and waited patiently.

And after a long silence filled with only Yuri’s soft breathing as he stilled under Victor’s hand Victor finally demanded in a tone that sounded frighteningly akin to the ice scraping against the glass, “Did JJ betray Yura?”

“I don’t think he knew how you two were involved,” Yuuri tried.

“Yuuri,” Victor growled lowly in the back of his throat and his eyes flashed, meeting his as he repeated, “Did JJ betray Yura?”

Yuuri sighed and closed his eyes as he thought of the way Victor’s face would light up when he thought of Yuri making friends- even pretentious jerks who somehow get Yuri to fall out windows and bullied and blown up.

“He didn’t reveal where they were,” Yuuri offered, “That’s why he’s being punished.”

Victor nodded, but his face was still dark. His eyes seemed to shine on his face and Yuuri yearned to reach out and take him in his arms. Instead he just felt his spine stiffen as he balled his hands into fists and tried-

“Victor I-”

Victor’s eyes closed as his head dipped and he interrupted, “Yuuri. Don’t. Do whatever you feel like you need to do.”

For some reason that made Yuuri’s chest feel tight, and it was hard to breathe. His eyes flickered to Yuri, deep in a forced sleep, and then back to Victor, who looked _ancient_.

“I’m sorry,” Yuuri said somehow from behind the lump in his throat, and he was getting tired of having to apologize to other people because of Celestino.

Victor said nothing. Blue eyes remained downcast as he took in the peaceful expression that had smoothed over Yuri’s face. Yuuri couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but he could guess and nothing good came to his mind.

Yuuri stood and stared, shifting from one foot to the other awkwardly, as he waited. Victor didn’t seem eager to acknowledge his presence anymore, all his attention focused on the impossibly small teenager shivering minutely on the bed and Yuuri couldn’t stop his brain from thinking of Phichit- pale and warm and shivering- and something inside his brain clicked.

He figured he always knew- always assumed- but it wasn’t until then that he couldn’t avoid the obvious. Russia was cold, but Victor could be colder if he wanted. Impossibly cold- the kind that curled up inside your bones and _lingered_ until you were dead.

Victor was killing Phichit, and if he wasn’t careful then he was going to kill Yuri. That was why Celestino had given Yuri to Victor. That was why he hadn’t instantly killed the kid despite under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have hesitated.

Celestino couldn’t control Victor, and Victor was far stronger than he could have anticipated.

“Victor,” Yuuri started but the words caught in the back of his throat.

What was there left to say? You’re killing everyone Victor, you need to stop? Yuuri wasn’t even sure Victor could stop if he wanted to. Something dark and cold and mean had overcame him since the roof. Something that’s softened slightly as he stared down at Yuri, but it hadn’t faded. Not completely. Yuuri wasn’t sure it ever will.

This time Victor did look at him, and his eyes had changed. They weren’t hard or riddled with frostbite. They were old and knowing, and it sent a tinge of uselessness through Yuuri. He wanted to help but couldn’t. He wanted to reach out and hug Victor and reassure him that everything was okay but couldn’t.

He wanted but couldn’t.

“I know,” Victor admitted.

Yuuri swallowed past the growing lump in his throat and nodded jerkily. He didn’t say anything else, though. There wasn’t really anything left to say.


	23. Out of the Frying Pan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celestino's plan is finally starting to unravel- unfortunately for everyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's been awhile. A long time, actually, longer than any of you really deserve but it's vacation time which means no more school which means actual free time so I promise updates will be quicker. We've also roughly past the halfway point so the climax is quickly approaching.
> 
> Sorry this chapter isn't very good. I never quite got it to what I wanted and figured I've kept you waiting long enough. I'll try to make the next one better. Promise.

JJ wasn’t speaking.

Yuuri couldn’t find it within himself to fault him for that. He’d literally betrayed his friends- lied and manipulated them for a man that lied and manipulated for a living. Now Phichit was sick, and Victor had ice in his eyes, and all the people who once called JJ a friend were now Celestino’s prisoners. He also wouldn’t make eye contact with Yuuri.

“JJ,” Yuuri tried but stopped himself because at the sound of his voice JJ curled further in on himself.

He bit the corner of his lip in thought. He needed JJ to not mess this up- for Phichit’s sake. Beside him, Seung-gil coughed.

“Is this going to be a problem?” Leo demanded as he pointed between Yuuri and JJ.

JJ’s shoulders hunched impossibly further inward as he shook his head miserably. Yuuri briefly wondered how Celestino trapped him as he narrowed his eyes at Leo and shook his head. Leo nodded, but he still squinted at them suspiciously.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Seung-gil said- short and curt- as he rose to his feet and gave them all a serious look.

Yuuri tilted his head to the side and said nothing. JJ seemed to only shrink further inward. It was Leo who was the one to speak. Leo always seemed to be the one who spoke.

“Whatever you say,” Leo replied and just like that his face melted back into that friendly mask he wore to trick people, “Boss’s orders, right?”

Yuuri gave him a tight frown- hadn’t quite forgiven him for what he did to Victor and Yuri. Apparently Leo hadn’t forgiven him either as his face dropped into the closest expression of fear the man was capable of. Seung-gil noticed, rolling his shoulders threateningly. It was JJ who broke the tension.

“Let’s just get this over with. I’m worried about the others.”

Seung-gil adapted an expression of disinterest once more, and Leo snickered.

“Got a pretty lady waiting for you?” Leo teased and Yuuri realized he probably didn’t know about Celestino’s captives.

JJ’s eyes darkened, corners of his eyes shifting into a bright red color. Yuuri wasn’t aware of what his ability is, but he suddenly got the looming feeling he didn’t want to know.

“Celestino is a monster,” JJ snarled, “and he’s not above hurting innocent people to get what he wants.”

“And _what_ is it that he wants again,” Leo pressed.

“He wants the Moon Crystal. He wants Victor. He wants to be the only user,” Yuuri listed off in an attempt to defuse the situation.

JJ blinked and the red disappeared. Leo dipped his head in acknowledgement and even Seung-gil pretended like he wasn’t aware of the conversation. None of them liked Celestino, but they didn’t have to like him. They were all terrified of him and fear worked so much quicker.

That had been why Yuuri asked Victor to make it unbearably cold back in their prison. He wanted to remind Celestino that there was someone stronger. He had wanted to _scare_ him, but he’d never anticipated Celestino would’ve used Yuri. He should’ve, but he hadn’t.

Now they were all doomed. None of them were strong enough to take him on. Yuuri settled back into his thoughts. This was going to be a long trip.

{…}

Yura woke up and he was shivering. Victor stared down at him, feeling his heart break. Yura looked impossibly small, curled on his side with the cover tucked tightly around his shoulder. His blonde hair was spread out around his face like a halo, and it was funny how angelic the teen looked when he slept, but then green eyes blinked owlishly up at Victor and he looked confused.

“Good morning Yura,” Victor breathed, and Yuri made a face.

His eyebrows scrunched together and green eyes hardened as he sat upright, dragging the blanket up with him. He hugged the blanket around thin shoulders and tucked in on himself like a turtle closing inside itself protectively.

“Victor,” Yuri murmured and his voice had taken the soft rasping sound it does whenever Yuri’s about to get sick.

“Are you alright?” Victor inquired, hands twisting in his lap nervously.

He wanted so badly to reach out and take Yuri’s thin face in his hands but was suddenly all too aware of how fragile and breakable the teenager is compared to him. Yuri didn’t seem to notice, eyes flickering down to the bandages wrapped around Victor’s leg.

“Are you?” Yuri demanded.

Victor moved his leg away subconsciously, but Yuri’s eyes were already focused back on Victor’s face. His annoyance was starting to ebb away, turning into something raw and soft and anxious and it always hurt when Victor realized how much Yuri worried about him.

“I’m fine,” Victor promised as he tipped his head to the side and reminded, “and I believe I asked you first.”

Yuri shrugged but didn’t answer. Victor took careful note of that as he watched Yuri pull his legs to his chest and wrap the blanket further around himself. He settled his chin on top of his knees and green eyes took a distant look.

“I’m sorry I got you caught Victor,” Yuri apologized softly.

The confession- small and easily missed- felt worse than anything Celestino could have done to him. Tears prickled at the corners of Victor’s eyes. Small hands reached out to brush them across Victor’s face, smearing the wetness amongst Victor’s cheeks.

“I’m happy you’re here,” Victor admitted but immediately felt foolish because Yuri was a prisoner and Victor had no reason to be happy he was in this place with a madman.

The alternative, of course, was Yuri lying in some random alleyway. Limbs contorted at weird angles and eyes rolled way back in his head, and it wasn’t until Yuri slapped him that Victor blinked back into the present.

“I’m happy you’re here too,” Yuri said, “though I rather wish we both weren’t.”

Victor chuckled wetly, grasping the small wrist like a lifeline. Yuri didn’t protest. He only continued to shiver so Victor pulled the blanket tighter around his thin form.

“You should get some rest,” Victor said as he moved to climb from the bed to give Yuri more space.

“I think he’s rather had enough sleep, don’t you think?” a smooth voice demanded and before Victor could think his vision turned white and the cold came rushing forward before he had a chance to stop it.

Ice scratched against glass and wood- a nails on a chalkboard sort of sound- as it consumed Celestino’s smug face, however superficially. The world continued to narrow and darken and he didn’t even realize the temperature dropping as quickly as it was.

“Careful. Your kitten isn’t looking too good,” the voice breathed even as the face disappeared.

The ice faded as Victor spun to see Yuri had gone bone white, eyelids drooping and blanket slipping from thin shoulders. He’d stopped shivering. Somewhere in the back of his mind Victor realized that was a bad sign.

“He can’t stay in here,” Victor demanded as he spun back towards Celestino’s glowing expression, “He’ll die.”

“Only if you kill him.”

Victor turned back to Yuri, who was sitting there pathetically. He looked half-conscious and mostly dead, and Victor’s panic was climbing up his throat. He was vaguely aware of the air growing warmer as Victor silently retreated within himself.

Yuri remained frighteningly still, and Victor was quickly forgetting how to breathe.

“Yura?”

Yuri didn’t move.

Victor spun to Celestino, who was starting to eye Yuri with concern himself. The ice was scratching and digging into the glass, but Victor didn’t notice. All he saw was Yuri- small and fragile and hurt because of _him_.

He turned back to Celestino and begged, “Save him, _please_ ,” before turning to stare helplessly back at Yuri who was now leaning against the wall limply, eyelids closed with ice glittering along pale eyelashes, sparkling like diamonds.

He missed Celestino’s victorious smirk as something pricked the side of his neck and his world enveloped into darkness.

{…}

Yuuri popped another bubble, giving the guard a smirk he didn’t feel. It seemed off-centered and wrong but the guard didn’t even seem to notice. Yuuri couldn’t even be sure the guard had seen it, his eyes kept scanning across the room like he was searching for something.

He didn’t even seem aware that trouble stood five feet away from him chewing a flavorless piece of gum.

He should have attended this thing with Victor at his side, Yuri probably scowling from afar with those vividly pale eyes of his. Practically daring him to hurt his Victor. At one time Yuuri would have found that thought foolish.

_Oh how the mighty have fallen?_

Yuuri’s nose twitched as he popped another bubble. His face remained an impassive mask- neutral and calm and nonthreatening. He often found himself thinking of how that was probably the reason Celestino targeted him at all- of just how invisible he could make himself.

In his ear Leo’s voice said, “In position. Over.”

Seung-gil and JJ’s soon followed before silence settled, waiting for Yuuri. He thought- for the briefest moment- to not reply. To just sink into the crowd and disappear forever, but then he remembered Victor and Yuri and Phichit and everyone else Celestino was holding captive.

“Ready when you are boss,” Yuuri claimed perhaps more cynical then necessary, but he was annoyed and upset and had the strong urge to punch Celestino in his stupid smug face.

“Yuuri-” Leo started to warn, evidently having heard it as well but with a simple press of his finger the obnoxious voice in his ear cut off.

Yuuri offered the guard another smile, and this time the man noticed. Good thing because Yuuri wanted him to notice. He wanted him to see. He wanted all his attention directed towards him.

“Keep it moving,” the guard commanded of him.

Yuuri popped another bubble at him and didn’t budge. When the guard repeated himself Yuuri simply tilted his head to the side and feigned ignorance.

“Are you deaf or slow?” the guard snapped with an angry under bite, “Move.”

He gestured to the crowd of people laughing and conversing and being genuinely oblivious. Yuuri followed his hand taking care to keep a dumb expression on his features before sprouting off nonsense in Japanese.

The guard’s expression settled into annoyance once more as he snarled, “Stupid foreigners.”

“Well that’s not very kind,” JJ’s voice piped in, emerging from nowhere to glower at the man.

The guard settled back, looking properly chastised. Yuuri vaguely recalled how Yuri mentioned how the bullies at his school backed off once JJ got ahold of them. Yuuri suddenly understood why.

“I’m sorry sir,” the guard apologized though Yuuri couldn’t be sure to whom he was speaking.

“I’m sure it is quite alright,” JJ continued holding a glass of something bubbly and probably heavily drugged, “I’m sure it can’t be easy having your job. High stress and all that.”

The guard’s eyes flickered to the drink before he schooled his expression once more and said, “I am not permitted to drink while I am working.”

“Relax,” JJ replied easily with a charismatic grin, “Its nonalcoholic.”

The guard’s eyes flickered once more to the drink, but the longer they stayed at this impasse the longer the people Yuuri cared for were at risk.

Yuuri meet the guard’s eyes as he whispered, “Sleep.”

The guard crumpled.

“Jeezus Yuuri,” JJ protested as he lurched forward to catch him on his way down, “I thought we were supposed to be tactful.”

“Celestino doesn’t care about tact,” Yuuri claimed as he stepped over the guard’s limp form, “I wouldn’t linger if I were you. Any of you.”

JJ reached out for him but missed, though he may have not been trying all that hard. Yuuri pushed back the heavy certain, seeing the center attraction. Hidden away from prying eyes and curious fingers- the most precious thing perhaps in all the world.

Behind his shoulder JJ gave an impressive whistle.

The Moon Crystal sat on top of a wooden pedestal behind unbreakable glass. The plan was to give the guests a brief and guarded look at the thing before it disappeared once more. Then it would take another fifteen years before it resurfaced once more.

A long time to be planning this sort of thing. Yuuri had never cared either way, but it was no longer just his life Celestino was gambling with.

“JJ. Leave,” Yuuri growled lowly, rolling his shoulders and reaching for his belt.

“Why? What are you going to do?” JJ inquired curiously, but with a leveled look the younger man started to back away slowly.

Yuuri started forward, reaching for his mouth, as he continued, “You have thirty seconds JJ. Stay close.”

He didn’t pause to see if JJ had listened or even if he was still there. He removed the piece of gum he’d been chewing for the better part of the night from his mouth, sticking it to the side of the glass. He stuck one of the diamonds he’d stolen what’s felt like an eternity ago to the side of it.

Without hesitation, he reared back and elbowed where he placed the diamond. The glass shattered almost embarrassingly easy, almost instantaneously alarms started blaring all around him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” a voice demanded from behind.

Yuuri reached forward, removing the Moon Crystal from its case and holding it delicately in his palms. It was more than Celestino ever deserved, and he was going to be the one to hand deliver it to him. Shoes scuffled behind him.

“Sleep,” Yuuri commanded softly without looking up, and they did.

They all did.

{…}

Yuri woke to voices, familiar hands pawing at his face but that wasn’t right because the last thing he remembered was _cold, cold, everywhere it was cold-_

He blinked and Otabek stared back.

“Yuri?” his friend asked.

Yuri squinted back, nose twitching and muscles slumping further into the warmth that was his friend. Otabek’s hands followed him, trailing along his thin body as brown eyes darkened with worry.

“Yuri, are you with us?” Otabek demanded.

Yuri’s head rolled on his neck as he repeated, “Us?”

“Isabella and Phichit are here,” Otabek reassured, “as am I. The question is rather or not you are.”

Yuri twitched, hands coming to grip onto Otabek’s arms as he sought out his strength. His brain was still foggy- ice clinging to the edges. His body was still numb, but it wasn’t quite cold anymore. Not with Otabek so close.

“Vitya?” he asked, voice weak and scratchy and unfamiliar.

One of Otabek’s hands cupped the side of his face, brushing blonde strands back. His face was smooth and kind and Yuri felt oddly like a victim of some sort. All he wanted in that moment was Victor.

“Celestino has gotten to him,” Phichit’s voice whispered; Otabek’s face didn’t even flicker in recognition, and Yuri suddenly found it very difficult to look away.

“Because of me,” Yuri stated: fact.

But Otabek shook his head as Phichit was quick to protest, “Celestino is a manipulative bastard.”

Yuri didn’t feel particularly like arguing so he accepted the words with a silent nod as he tried sitting up on his own. Otabek’s hands helped guide him and soon he was on his knees facing Phichit and Isabella’s worried expressions, Otabek’s hands a comforting constant against his back.

“Are you alright?” Otabek inquired.

“You were really far gone,” Isabella piped in and she didn’t even seem to notice that JJ wasn’t by her side, which Yuri found odd but not particularly shocking.

“You felt as cold as ice, and you were paler than death,” Phichit added- eyes wide and young and traumatized.

Behind him, Otabek cleared his throat. Yuri turned to give him a sly smirk that probably came off thin and forced and only slightly psychotic.

“Were you worried about me Beka?” he teased.

His strength was slowly coming back to him, seeping in through Otabek’s hands. It was nice, but not really what Yuri wanted. He wanted Victor- alive and whole and okay- at his side, and whatever permitted Celestino to take him from Victor must have been bad.

Before Otabek got the chance to reply, Yuri was clambering to his feet. They shook underneath him, and he was sure he looked like a newborn deer. A comical thought, if not slightly degrading. And possibly one only he thought as the other three were too worried about him falling and hurting himself.

“Of course I was worried Yura,” Otabek said as he rose with him, hands still gripping him firmly, “You almost died.”

Yuri shrugged him off with a brisk, “I’m fine,” but the moment he tried to take a step forward his knees buckled and Otabek had to catch him before he collapsed on his face.

“You are not,” Isabella snapped with a surprising fire, “You’re almost died. You were far too close to death. If Celestino hadn’t brought you here you would have very well been lost.”

Which brought up an interesting concept.

Yuri allowed Otabek to hold him upright as he demanded to no one in particular, “What did Vitya do to get Celestino to save my life?”

{…}

“That was stupid and risky and you should have stuck to the plan,” Leo snapped at Yuuri, who was sitting by himself with the Moon Crystal sitting delicately in his lap.

Yuuri hadn’t offered to give it up, and no one has asked for it. JJ was giving him fearful glances, and Yuuri really couldn’t blame him. He’s obviously heard of what he could do and it had always been assumed he was frightful enough to get Celestino’s attention but seeing it firsthand seemed to have awakened something inside him.

Yuuri would have felt bad if he hadn’t been so angry and generally done with Celestino and his need to draw everyone Yuuri’s ever cared about into his twisted plans. Phichit was probably already dead- had been halfway there the last time Yuuri had seen him. That had been why he’d asked Victor to make it cold.

Impossibly, unbearably cold. After all, Celestino wasn’t Russian and he wasn’t used to the frigid temperature. Add to the fact that Victor was one user Celestino couldn’t control- it had been the only plan Yuuri could think of.

It only seemed to force Celestino’s plan quicker into motion.

“The plan was never going to work,” Yuuri said simply, “and Celestino never cared for anything complicated. We got the crystal. That’s all that will matter.”

Leo scrubbed his face- looking much older than his age. He was probably having flashes to that time back in the high school when he and Seung-gil had made Yuri scream. Now it was him and Victor and Otabek and everyone else in trouble. That made the eggshells they were walking along very thin and highly dangerous.

“They’ve seen your face,” Leo added, “Your real face. You blew your whole life for what? A crystal?”

Yuuri’s eyes flickered up to Leo’s face for the briefest moment before dropping back to the crystal in his lap and whispered, “They won’t remember.”

JJ barked out a laugh, but it was half-mad. He was fracturing- teetering dangerously on the precipice of sanity. Yuuri couldn’t fault him. After all, in many ways, he was still a child, and everyone he’s ever loved was at risk.

Leo looked a little less forgiving so Yuuri rose to his feet and forced the Moon Crystal into his arms before moving over to the teenager. If nothing else, he’d been there for Yuri while Victor had been there for him. JJ didn’t make any acknowledgement that he was aware of the new presence beside him.

He suddenly looked impossibly young, elbows on his knees and hands dangling uselessly between. His eyes seemed lost- almost thoughtful- and it had only been a matter of time before it all got to him.

This life.

The consequences of the choices you make.

The constant threat to your loved ones.

It was all there, and if JJ lingered on them too much then he wasn’t going to be much use to those still alive. That was why Yuuri reached out, pressing his fingers against JJ’s neck. Feathery and light and practically undetectable but it worked all the same.

Calm flooded through Yuuri, seeping into JJ’s muscles and face and eyes and- just like that- he was back. Dark eyes- pupils still blown wide- blinked sluggishly as he regained his sense. He seemed oblivious to the rest of them, but that was fine. Yuuri glanced up, meeting Leo and Sueng-gil’s stares and dared them with their eyes.

They were smart. They looked away.

Yuuri turned back to JJ, removing his hand before the teen was drunk from calm. Sense slowly seeped back into JJ’s eyes, and his head turned slowly towards Yuuri. Fear had returned back to his face.

“Yuuri,” JJ noted with a tip of the head.

His voice was a measured drawl- low and calm and deliberate. It had taken Yuuri sometime before he realized everything JJ did and say was done with a sort of controlled precision. Thoughtful and careful and something no child should ever know what to do.

Yuuri turned his head, shame making his cheeks burn. He was no Celestino- he knew that- but in many ways he was worse. He was capable of emotion- shame and guilt and a protective fury that burned deep in his gut- but he could stab your back just as quickly.

“I can see why Celestino admires you,” JJ said, breaking the silence that was quickly enveloping the conversation.

He probably meant it as a compliment, but it dug as deep as an insult nevertheless. Yuuri swallowed past the lump in his throat as he turned to meet JJ’s eyes once more.

“You’re probably wondering how me and Celestino became… acquainted,” JJ continued, looking away, “or why I stay. It’s not like my parents care what happens to me, and they had long since decided one disappointment was enough.”

“You don’t have to explain anything to us,” Yuuri promised, narrowing his eyes at Leo and Seung-gil in a dare for either of them to protest, “We all have done things we’re not proud of.”

JJ shook his head, hands spinning amongst themselves.

“I need you to understand,” JJ said, “I didn’t do it for my family. No one cared for me, and I didn’t care for anyone. The world could have burned, and I wouldn’t have batted an eyelash. I was more than capable of burning the world myself, and it wouldn’t have mattered. None of it would have mattered, but then I met Isabella and she taught me the world wasn’t bad. And now Celestino has her.”

 _She’ll be fine. They’ll all be fine_ , Yuuri wanted to promise but Phichit flashed in his memory, and he felt sick.

JJ didn’t seem to notice; he continued, “Then there was Yuri and Otabek, and I silently promised myself that nothing was going to happen to them. I swore to myself that nothing would ever happen to them, and Celestino still found them. He found them, and now they know. They’ll hate me.”

“When I was little- really little- my mother was sick,” Yuuri said, “She was dying, and nobody could do anything to save her. No doctor. They all said the same. She was a lost cause, and it was hopeless. Father and my older sister had given up hope as well, I think, and then a child had knocked on our door. A healer and he did what no else could. He saved her.”

“Otabek,” JJ whispered softly.

Yuuri nodded, “I swore then that I would do anything for this child. I’d protect him- be there for his every need, and he’d believed me. Celestino came for me not long after. Corrupted me. Poisoned me. And I’d allowed it because I’d been dumb and naïve in my youth.

That’s why when Otabek came to me because it was his mother dying except this time there really was no cure, I turned my back on him. It wasn’t to protect him, and it wasn’t to keep him from Celestino. If Celestino had asked I would’ve sold Otabek in a heartbeat. I had just seen this child and thought he was inferior to me because I had been the one Celestino had chosen and Otabek had not. He’d just needed a friend, and I let him down. Betrayed him in the worst possible way and I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for it.”

Something wet landed on the back of Yuuri’s hand, and he hadn’t even realized he started crying until that moment. He reached up, wiping his cheeks and feeling impossibly stupid and selfish because _this hadn’t been about him._

JJ reached out, laying his hand on top of Yuuri’s and when their eyes meet JJ’s was sincere and kind and understanding. Everything Yuuri didn’t deserve but wanted nevertheless.

“It’s alright,” JJ promised, and it sounded like he knew something Yuuri did not, “It took me a long time before I found Isabella. It took you even longer before you found Victor. Otabek’s lucky he found Yuri so soon, and Yuri adores you. In time Otabek will find it within himself to forgive you, if he has not already.”

_Yuri._

Young and small and strong yet incredibly vulnerable at the same time. He’d rescued Victor when no one else would, and he didn’t even seem to notice that he was saving Otabek as well. Not even a user and yet…

Despite everything that’s happened, Yuuri smiled fondly as the van came to a stop. Leo rose to his feet, Seung-gil right behind him.

“If you two are done with your moment, we’re back,” Leo announced, but he didn’t look annoyed or angry- just tired.

Yuuri had to remind himself that they were all being used by Celestino. Some way, somehow he’s found ways of controlling them and in turn they’ve all became his victims as much as anybody else.

Nobody spoke as they made their way to Celestino’s room. The temperature had risen since the last time they’d been there, which Yuuri took to mean wasn’t a good sign. It made cold tendrils of fear to slither down his spine for the first time in a long time.

 _It doesn’t mean anything_ , he tried telling him, _a coincidence, nothing more. It doesn’t mean anything- it_ doesn’t _._

Except Sara met them outside Celestino’s door, and she was bone white. Violet eyes revealed her fear, and it was obvious she wasn’t even trying to hide it. That in itself was concerning, but then she met his gaze and gave the most minute shake of the head.

Yuuri’s stomach dropped to his boots. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting after that, but what was waiting in Celestino’s room was so much worst.

Celestino was there, of course, dressed in all white like some ironic villain from one of those cheesy American movies Yuri secretly loved so much. His hair was slicked back and a Cheshire grin spread across his face: knowing and powerful and _gloating_.

He’d won and now they all knew it as well for standing at his side- tall and imposing and impossibly handsome- was Victor. His arms were folded nonthreatening behind his back and blue eyes were blank- a far cry from the resentful man Yuuri had left behind.

_No. No. No. No. Not him. Not Victor._

“Ah my pets,” Celestino purred, gaze locked on Yuuri, “I’d introduce you to my newest recruit, but I’ve been informed you’re all rather acquainted.”

He gestured to Victor anyways. Victor made no move of acknowledgement. There really was no point, he could see the Moon Crystal from where he was standing and Yuuri knew what he must have been thinking. It was what they all were thinking.

Celestino had won.


	24. Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If the best laid plans can lead you astray...

When JJ returned to them he looked wrong. He was pale and had dark smudges under his eyes and they seemed to stare at nothing. Isabella let out a small cry of relief as she immediately enveloped him in a tight hug, though JJ didn’t seem to even notice. He just continued staring blankly forward.

From the far wall, with his knees pulled to his chest, Yuri observed it all with a small frown. Otabek was asleep on the only bed in the room, having nearly passed out himself after healing both Phichit and Yuri in such a close timespan. Phichit had taken the spot by Otabek’s side. He had tensed when the door opened and had yet to relax.

“Isabella step away from him,” Phichit commanded, rising to his feet and puffing out his shoulders protectively.

Isabella released JJ and glared at Phichit but took a reluctant step back. JJ hardly noticed her absence. His shoulders just slumped dejectedly as his eyes continued to stare at nothing.

“JJ,” Phichit spoke in a calm measured tone, “JJ, look at me. Where’s Yuuri? Victor?”

Fear flickered briefly in JJ’s eyes, and it created a cold lump inside Yuri’s stomach.

“Yuuri’s fine,” JJ promised before his face flickered with doubt and he added, “I guess. He just put the entire guest list of the biggest party of the year to sleep with a single word. So he’s fine. Normal. And I don’t even know what Victor is.”

Something inside Yuri shocked him- like a jolt or bolt of lightning or fear. Real fear for someone other than yourself- for one of the few people left in the world worth loving. He didn’t even remember rising to his feet, but suddenly he was standing up with his arms crossed around his middle.

“Where is he JJ? Is he hurt? Is he-” _Cold? Foreign? Lost to them forever?_

Yuri choked, tears sliding down his cheeks. He didn’t bother to brush them away. Victor was probably gone, and it was his fault.

Somehow JJ’s eyes found his, and they made Yuri turn to ice. He found he didn’t mind as much as he probably should. He just squared his shoulders and waited. JJ didn’t keep him waiting long.

“Victor was with _him_ when we got back, and he looked indifferent about it all. That’s what I know.”

Yuri closed his eyes, released a heavy breath. The tears hadn’t exactly dried, but he didn’t think they were falling anymore.

“Yuri?”

That sounded like Phichit, who had decided before Yuri got there that he was their protector. That he was going to be the one who kept them safe, and no one was going to stand in his way.

“Yuri, you’re pale as the dead!” Isabella _._

Yuri’s knees buckled underneath him. He didn’t fight it. He just allowed his body and gravity meld together as one function, pulling him down until the floor caught him.

“Yuri!” someone exclaimed but Yuri didn’t care to try and differentiate who.

He’d lost Victor. Victor’s one weakness was him, and he allowed Celestino to get to them, wiggle his way into all of their minds. Twisting and manipulating and pulling until he got his way, and it made Yuri feel numb. Numb and weak and stupid and all he wanted to do was crawl in a corner and never leave it again.

“Yuri?”

Hands reached out and grasped him tightly. It felt like an anchor, but Yuri wasn’t sure he was ready. Victor was gone, and they were all Celestino’s prisoners, and none of this was okay. Yuri wasn’t sure it was ever going to be okay.

“Yuri!” and that time he was shaken and when he blinked he focused and saw everyone crowding around him- even JJ, who no longer looked like a walking shell.

“It’s my fault,” Yuri admitted, “Victor just wanted to protect me.”

Phichit grabbed his shoulder and gave him a kind smile. Yuri stared blankly at it. He didn’t deserve any kindness. They were all screwed because of him. Celestino had _won_ because of him.

Arms encircled him from behind and it was the first time he realized he was shaking. Isabella knelt down in front of him, taking both his hands gently in hers and she looked so empathetic- so genuine- that Yuri’s heart constricted tightly.

“This is _not_ because of you,” she swore vehemently, “Celestino is a manipulative bastard so if you need to blame someone blame him. Yuri?”

Yuri swallowed thickly and nodded. The arms tightened around him, and he wanted to curl up there and disappear forever. He wanted for all of this to end already, but more than anything he wanted Victor.

“We’ll find a way,” JJ promised, voice hard and rough.

Yuri wondered if JJ knew what he was promising, but as he looked up at the older boy he found himself believing him. If nothing else he’s never seen that expression on JJ before, and his eyes seemed to be tinted with a dark red. It was curious, and how Yuri knew he was losing his mind.

“And Victor?” Yuri demanded with a slight shiver as the lingering cold remained somewhere deep inside him.

“Victor did what he had to to protect those he cared for,” JJ reassured.

The words made sense, and his expression was genuine, but Yuri still felt lost. Victor’s been fighting this darkness longer than he’s known Yuri, and he’d hoped that Yuuri would finally free Victor from it. Yuri didn’t like being wrong.

Yuri drew further within Otabek’s warmth as he swore, “I’m going to kill him.”

That seemed to draw some tension from JJ and Isabella as Phichit replied sensibly, “Victor would probably let you.”

Except Yuri wasn’t talking about Victor. Victor hadn’t done anything wrong- everyone else had. Everyone else were the ones who failed him.

Yuri met Phichit’s gaze and declared frighteningly calm, “I wasn’t talking about him.”

Phichit sat back on his heels and ran a hand down his face as he allowed the implication of Yuri’s words to sink in.

{…}

Sara was waiting for him in his room.

Though calling it a room was being generous. It was small and dark- its space taken mostly by the large wooden bed with a richly colored quilt covering the top. That was where Sara was sitting, knees crossed and back straight. Proper and perfect and well-trained. It set an acidic taste in the back of Yuuri’s throat.

“You need to stop looking,” Sara spoke as Yuuri clicked the door shut with the heel of his boot, never taking his eyes from her.

Yuuri didn’t bother denying it. Sara was just as smart as Celestino, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out Yuuri’s been searching for Victor.

“Tell me where he is,” Yuuri said instead- voice cold and hard and dangerous.

Sara gave a remorseful sigh, ducking her head so dark strains of hair cascaded down her features as she replied simply, “I cannot because I do not know. I haven’t asked- and you shouldn’t either.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t really angry at Sara because- like him or JJ- she was just one of Celestino’s pawns. It was just difficult to remember that at times.

“What’s Celestino’s plans for Victor?” Yuuri demanded.

Sara rose to her feet, and Yuuri squared his shoulders to match her. She didn’t comment as she closed the distance between them, turning to speak only when she reached the doorway. Yuuri didn’t turn to face her, already knowing what she was going to say.

“Stop asking questions,” she said simply before disappearing out the door and only when he was certain she was gone did Yuuri turn.

Leo stared back.

He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed. A smug expression was stretched across his face, and though Yuuri had been aware he’d followed him to his room the urge to punch him in the face was still strong.

“Are you lost?” Yuuri demanded but didn’t wait for a reply before he turned and walked further in his room.

Leo’s expression remained smug but Yuuri heard the uncertainty in his voice as he said, “Rumor has it JJ was returned to his friends.”

“JJ is free to go wherever he likes,” Yuuri replied curtly, turning to glare at the younger male, “and if that is with Celestino’s prisoners than it isn’t our place to judge.”

“I imagine his decision was heavily influenced by you and your big speech. You can be quite the inspiration when you want to,” Leo continued, trying to keep his voice light and carefree but his anxiety at being so close to Yuuri was obvious.

And usually Yuuri wouldn’t want someone to fear him so much that just being around him made them nervous, but Leo had hurt both Victor and Yuri.

Yuuri shrugged, taking the spot Sara had on his bed. Leo straightened up, face battling to keep his expression smug as Yuuri crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes.

Leo’s arms fell before he crossed them again and repeated. He fidgeted nervously, leaning back and forth on his feet. Yuuri said nothing, waiting.

Finally Leo dropped his arms to his sides and released a heavy sigh as he admitted, “JJ wasn’t the only inspired by your speech.”

Almost on instinct, Yuuri straightened his spine. The words wasn’t what he had been expecting, but he found it wasn’t unpleasant. He stayed silent, though, waiting for Leo to finish.

Leo fidgeted for several more seconds before he released a heavy breath and admitted, “I think I know where Victor is.”

Yuuri was on his feet before he was aware he was even moving. To Leo’s credit, he didn’t shrink away. He kept his face passive and body lose and said nothing. Yuuri supposed Leo figured it was his time to speak. Yuuri wasn’t one to disappoint him.

“Where?” he demanded as Leo continued to stare.

Leo shook his head, but Yuuri’s hands were suddenly latched onto his biceps as he squeezed. He imagined his face was something frightful, but Leo didn’t fold.

“You can’t save him and the others. Celestino has ensured that,” Leo explained and Yuuri felt his body deflate because he couldn’t choose- neither Victor nor Yuri would forgive him if he’d pick them and not the other.

“Luckily,” Leo continued, a mischievous expression crossing his features for the first time since the beginning of the conversation, “Between the three of us it might just be possible.”

Yuuri released his hold on Leo and stepped back as he asked confusedly, “Three?”

Seung-gil stepped from behind the wall Leo had been leaning against moments before. His face was as neutral and emotionless as ever, but Yuuri could sense the apprehensive air following him into the room. Yuuri couldn’t blame him- they’d be defying Celestino for someone they were equally afraid of.

Distrust crawled up Yuuri’s spine as he demanded curtly, “Why are you suddenly willing to help me?”

Leo and Seung-gil shared a look before Leo focused back on him as he pronounced, “We’re not.”

Yuuri still wasn’t sure. It wouldn’t be the first time Celestino has set him up to test his loyalty, but it would be the first time he used someone that was Leo and Seung-gil.

He crossed his arms defensively and demanded, “Then why suggest it?”

“Because we saw that expression on Victor’s face,” Seung-gil explained, “Celestino has him.”

“And that was the one thing we can’t accept Celestino getting,” Leo finished at Yuuri’s distrustful gaze, “but Victor won’t leave without the little blonde one so we need your help.”

Yuuri nodded at the truth in that statement, and anything to get them out from this place was worth whatever risk.

“Alright,” Yuuri agreed with a tip of his head but then he allowed his expression and voice drop several degrees as he added, “but if you betray me- if you betray Victor-”

“Then you’ll be to dead to care,” Leo finished for him, holding out his hand.

Yuuri kept their eyes locked as he reached out to accept the hand.

{…}

Yuri was curled up against Otabek’s chest in the corner sleeping softly while JJ and Isabella sat on the bed whispering silently to each other. They were holding hands and Phichit remembered Yuri mentioning once that they had been walking on eggshells around each other lately, so it was nice to see them together.

Phichit felt himself pacing, hands twisting around each other nervously. His anxiety was starting to chew on his insides, and it made him feel physically ill. Unfortunate because he’d just gotten over being sick- Otabek having pulled him from the edge he’d been teetering dangerously close to.

Except when he’d woken up alive and healthy with Otabek and Isabella leaning over him, he’d instantly realized Yuuri had sold himself yet again to this monster to protect someone else. Everything seemed to only spiral from there, and Phichit had been powerless to stop it.

He could feel Otabek’s eyes following him as he paced, two dark specks watching carefully. In his arms he was holding Yuri gently, the blonde’s head lying comfortably against him as the exhaustion the teen’s felt the last few days finally take hold of him. Phichit felt a pang of pity in his chest. He also didn’t miss the way Otabek’s arms tightened the longer Phichit watched.

Otabek was a healer- therefore he was born with this irrational need to save everyone. It was different with Yuri. He didn’t want to save him- it was almost like he just wanted to protect him. To keep him away from harm before saving him was necessary. Phichit could relate in many ways.

After all he had his own Yuuri he wanted to keep from all the evils of this world. He thinks he entered Yuuri’s life too late, though, and liked to believe that with Otabek and Yuri it would be different.

“You should try to get some sleep,” Phichit told him softly, stopping in his pacing so he could match Otabek’s stare.

Otabek’s eyes flickered down to Yuri’s peaceful face for the briefest moment before he found Phichit’s gaze once more and whispered simply, “No. I’m good.”

Phichit nodded in understanding because he really did understand. Yuri was loud and brash and could be invasive at times, but he also cared so much and burned so bright without tempering out and that was as contagious as it was rare. Add that to his youth, and it wasn’t hard to see why people wanted to protect him.

Almost immediately he found himself pacing once more.

JJ hadn’t offered much information on the mission he’d gone on, and Phichit hadn’t felt like pushing too hard. The important part was that he returned to them, and he’d done so willing so it seemed Celestino hadn’t gotten everyone.

He’d gotten Victor, though, and that’d broken Yuri.

The lock on the door clicked suddenly and, just like that, the room froze. JJ was on his feet, hand still clutched with both of Isabella’s. He met Phichit’s eyes for a single heartbeat before Phichit turned towards the door, puffing out his shoulders.

He’d failed Yuuri- had lost him to Celestino’s madness- but he will not fail these kids.

Except the door opened, and Yuuri was the one standing there. His brown eyes found Phichit’s first, and Phichit saw his friend and only his friend in those eyes for the first time in a long time. There was no hidden guilt or apprehension or regret hiding behind dark irises.

Phichit felt his shoulders droop as he started to relax.

Then, suddenly, there was a flash of blonde before Yuuri was stumbling backwards. His hands reached for his nose as Yuri glared back up at him, hands fisted at his sides. He seemed to be quivering with barely concealed rage.

“How _could_ you?” Yuri demanded, voice surprisingly cold.

“Yurio,” Yuuri started, voice nasally due to his hands clutching at his nose.

“Do _not_ call me that,” Yuri snapped, cutting him off, “You lost Victor. I _trusted_ you, and you _lost_ him.”

Phichit stepped forward to interfere because blaming Yuuri wasn’t fair. Yuuri caught his gaze over Yuri’s head and gave him a firm shake of his head. This was just going to have to be something Yuri worked out of his system.

Perhaps that was why Phichit caught Otabek’s arm on his way pass, pulling back to his side so they could watch. Yuri’s shoulders were shaking now, and he didn’t push away when Yuuri reached out to pull him to his chest.

“I know,” Yuuri swore as he held the stiff teen in his arms, “but it’s going to be okay now. I’m getting you both out of here, but I need you to trust me. Please.”

Yuri pulled back, face pale and wet and so very young, as he nodded stiffly. Yuuri gave a relieved sigh as he pulled Yuri into another hug, one the youth was quick to return.

“Uh… not to be a negative voice in this sea of optimism but how?” JJ asked, “Because Celestino is definitely going to notice us leaving, and he won’t give us time to save Victor and escape.”

“That’s because we’re not going to rescue Victor,” Yuuri stated simply.

Yuri jerked away, as if stunned, as he demanded sharply, “ _What?_ ”

Yuuri’s hands squeezed Yuri’s shoulders supportively as he clarified, “We’re not going to rescue him because he’s already being rescued, and we might want to hurry if we’re going to meet up with him.”

Phichit let go of Otabek, who immediately closed the distance to Yuri, as he gestured to Yuuri and proclaimed, “Lead the way.”

Yuuri met his gaze and gave a short nod as he mouthed his thanks. Phichit nodded back as he allowed JJ and Isabella to move past him before filing out after them. They hurried along in that formation- Yuuri leading them then Otabek and Yuri and JJ and Isabella and then finally Phichit. That was why when the first shot was fired Phichit felt it.

It was hot and sharp and grazed his arm, and it made him cry out in pain. A split second later Yuuri was pushing him behind his back, Otabek rubbing his palm along the graze.

“You should have listened to me,” the woman holding the gun informed them coldly, and Phichit only vaguely recognized her as one of Celestino’s pets; Yuuri seemed very familiar with her, however, as he started pushing them further behind him.

“Don’t do this Sara,” Yuuri commanded with a boldness Phichit has never seen coming from his friend.

Sara just pointed the gun towards his face as she proclaimed simply, “You can’t stop me.”

And she would have pulled the trigger, Phichit had no doubt in that- he saw it in her eyes- but Yuuri was quicker.

He clenched his hands at his sides as he hissed, “Sleep,” and violet eyes rolled back in her head as she crumpled boneless.

“Go,” Yuuri commanded as he spun around to herd them down the hallway, “Hurry. Now. She’ll wake soon.”

Otabek drug Phichit backwards and the hallway spun as he was hurried along. Yuuri took the lead, running along with a familiarity that burned the back of Phichit’s throat.

True to Yuuri’s word several moments later Sara was calling for them to stop, followed by gunshots ricocheting around the walls. They almost made it too.

{…}

Victor wasn’t surprised when the door to his small cell swung open. He _was_ surprised, however, when it was Leo beaming back at him.

He would have probably punched him in his stupid smug face if it wasn’t the chains binding him to the floor. They were bound around his wrists, binding them together before tying around his waist before ending at a lock on the floor. His ankles were bound in a similar manner.

It was to keep him from going against his word, he thinks. Not that he would because Celestino still had Yuri and Victor would sell his soul to the devil himself for the kid. Leo didn’t seem to get the message however and Victor would make him regret it if something happened to that kid.

“What’re you doing here Leo?” Victor demanded, voice as icy as the rest of him.

Fan patterns of frost started to make their way across the chains. Nothing could really subdue Victor’s powers, but as long as Celestino held people he cared for he’d be willing to fake it.

“To save myself from sounding incredibly corny, we’ve come to rescue you,” Leo announced as he reached out to grab onto Victor’s chains.

Underneath his touch the metal started to droop and melt before dissolving completely, gathering in a small grey puddle at Victor’s boots. Victor raised his eyebrows at the younger male.

“That’s new,” Victor noted in an almost monotone voice.

“Not really,” Leo admitted as he stepped back, “It’s just never really had a use until now.”

Victor gave him a slight smirk as he replied, “Color me impressed.”

Leo made a disinterested sound in the back of his throat as he turned away. Victor got the hint and followed him out into the hallway, where Seung-gil was waiting. Victor barely gave him a glance, could already feel the cold gathering around him.

These were the people who attacked Yuri’s school- had hurt Yuri with their powers- and Victor hadn’t been able to do anything about it because he’d been otherwise preoccupied. Now there was nothing stopping him except-

“Yuuri will be waiting for us,” Leo announced and just the name was enough to quell the cold building up inside of Victor.

Victor was still upset at Yuuri- still felt betrayed and hurt and lied to and, most importantly, had trusted him with his most precious things and have had those very things used against him- but somewhere along there his anger cooled to just annoyance. And he may never trust anything Yuuri says from now on but _this_ was something that Victor found himself following without much thought.

Of course that was when the gunshots started echoing around them.

Not long after that a piercing scream made Victor’s blood turn to ice.

{…}

Adrenaline did funny things.

The last couple of days have been hellish, to say the least, and it all seemed to have been building. Slowly. Accumulating over time as it weighed down on his psyche and made his entire body beg for him to give in to the exhaustion.

 _That_ was nothing new.

Yuri was (relatively) young and (undoubtedly) a survivor. He’d been to Hell before and survived, but this time had been different. A voice was whispering somewhere in the back of his skull- reminding him that this pain wasn’t something he was shouldering alone.

Victor and Otabek and JJ and Isabella and Yuuri and Phichit and maybe Chris as well were all suffering because Yuri was weak and defenseless, and they just wanted to protect him. That thought was impossibly worse than anything Celestino could do to him.

And eventually that exhaustion had just reached its building point and he’d just succumbed completely to it.

The next thing he knew he was running down a hallway with someone shooting at them chasing behind them.

Otabek had started with him, grip tight around his wrist and it hadn’t felt like he was going to let go. Yuri, still loopy with sleep and exhaustion, had allowed himself to be drug along. Then Otabek had disappeared- helping Phichit along.

That was about when Yuri’s adrenaline started to kick in. Ironically that’s also when they started getting shot at.

“You shouldn’t run Yuuri!” the woman called from behind them, her gun clicking indicating it was empty.

That didn’t seem to deter her as she tossed it behind her, pulling another one from behind her without missing a step.

“He’s going to kill all of you for this,” she added like that was going to get them to stop.

“Everybody keep going!” Yuuri shouted, pushing a stumbling JJ and Isabella along, “Don’t stop!”

“Yeah, I was thinking of _not_ doing that!” Yuri called back because he was a mouthy little shit even in the worst of times.

It was part of his charm.

And he would’ve made the time to mentally congratulate himself if it wasn’t for the fact that it was the same time he realized Yuuri had spun to a stop. Yuri skidded to a halt as well, hurrying back to where Yuuri was standing.

His shoulders were squared and he was glaring at the approaching woman, eyes dark and filled with the promise of pain, and Yuri was no idiot. He was aware Yuuri was sacrificing himself to buy them time. Only Yuri was tired of losing people.

“You idiot!” he shouted because he sucked at words and people in general and that will probably never change, “Come on! We have to go! All of us!”

Yuuri gently pushed Yuri further behind him. He seemed to be silently urging him along the hallway, despite the fact that everyone else had stalled to a stop as well.

“Yuri. Go,” Yuuri commanded softly.

“I won’t,” Yuri snapped back, “Not without you.”

Yuuri’s jaw twitched as he ground his teeth together. Yuri had that effect on people- even those with the legendary level of patience that Yuuri possessed. Yuri didn’t care. He wasn’t going to leave knowing Yuuri was the one who was going to suffer for it.

“Yuri. Listen to me,” Yuuri spoke in short broken sentences, “Victor will kill me if anything happens to you. I will never forgive myself if anything happens to you. Therefore I need you to get out. Now.”

He pushed at Yuri’s chest once more, probably pushing with his ability. Silently trying to get Yuri’s brain to convince itself that leaving Yuuri was the right thing to do.

Like.

_Hell._

Yuri shoved Yuuri’s hand away, glowering with as much righteousness his sixteen-year-old exhausted body was capable of. The woman approached, footsteps promising a horrible repercussion for their mistakes.

“She’ll kill you if we leave you,” Yuri pointed out and he’s lived with being several feet shorter than everyone else and never really minded as much as he did then.

Because how could you intimidate someone who stood several feet taller than you?

“Yuri, I’m serious,” Yuuri snapped, turning around to glare at Yuri so he missed the way the woman’s gun moved upwards.

Yuri didn’t.

Using the element of surprise and all the strength he possessed, he shoved Yuuri to the side about the same time the gun went off. Yuri didn’t really hear it, though, his eyes were ringing with a sharp painful cry of loss.


	25. Friends and Foes are Not Always Separate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The escape and the author continues to twist something that had been genuinely good and whole and pure (aka character death ahead. be warned)

For a single heartbeat Yuuri thought he was the one who got shot. Then he blinked and the hallway leveled, and he realized he was fine. Behind him, Yuri gave a loud cry that sounded almost primal.

Yuuri spun, afraid of what he was going to see. Afraid it was going to be Yuri, bleeding out and pale and _it wasn’t fair_. They were so close, but- no- Yuri was sitting hunched over and on his knees as he cradled a bleeding Otabek.

“Surrender Yuuri,” Sara called out to him, her gun still raised and her face unapologetic, “Nobody else needs to die.”

Yuuri didn’t reply. His eyes seemed glued to Yuri, tears streaming down his pale features as he pressed vainly against Otabek’s wound. Sara had managed to hit his stomach, approximately where his right kidney was supposed to be. A slow and very painful death- one Yuuri knew Otabek’s done nothing to deserve.

Behind them, the others seemed to finally start to recover from their shock.

Phichit was first, blinking once before his face hardened into a tight mask. He couldn’t have known Otabek for very long, but Phichit always made friends quickly and something about the situation only heightened that.

But the expression Phichit fixated on Sara was one Yuuri’s never seen on the younger male before, and it frightened him. Then Yuuri’s gaze shifted over to JJ and all the oxygen seemed to leave the room at once.

JJ’s hands were balled into tight fists at his sides, shoulders tense and rigid, as he continued to gaze down at Otabek and the blood and there _was so much blood._ His eyes were starting to tinge with red and Isabella, standing beside him, didn’t seem to notice.

“ _JJ_ -” Yuuri started but was too slow.

The ground shook, dust raining down on their heads, as JJ took a step forward. Around them the air seemed to turn stale and hot and almost suffocating, and Yuuri was reminded of when he was younger and struggled to breathe.

Phichit, who had never seen JJ’s powers start to blossom, switched from anger to shock as he turned to face the teen. Around them the walls were giving violent jerks, threatening to topple all around them as the red continued to bleed into JJ’s otherwise brown irises.

“Isabella!” Yuuri shouted but she was already moving.

Bravely, she reached out and latched onto JJ’s wrist and- just like that- the red bled from JJ’s eyes as he blinked dazedly. He turned to look down at her hand before horror crossed his features as if he seemed to realize something, but Isabella was already shaking her head.

“You didn’t hurt anyone,” she promised softly as her eyes sought out something on his face.

Sara didn’t seem fazed, her gun having moved to JJ. Her violet eyes were narrowed threateningly, but she hadn’t pulled the trigger. She could have, and Celestino would have wanted her to, but she hadn’t.

“Sara!” Yuuri called, “Don’t do this! They’re children! They didn’t get to choose!”

Her eyes flickered to him and her face was back to being hard and emotionless. She moved her gun, almost instinctively, to where Yuri was sitting trying to get Otabek to open his eyes. To look at him. To do anything besides lie there and bleed.

Yuuri shuffled in place, itching to step between them but knowing if he moved suddenly she’d shoot.

“You want to know the funny thing about life, Yuuri?” Sara demanded as her gun remained unwaveringly stubborn at Yuri, “You hardly get to choose.”

And Yuuri knew she was talking about her twin brother being born a user and her not. He knew she was talking about how Celestino sought her out anyways, made her feel special before he revealed himself as a monster. He knew because he got it, and might have once even agreed with her.

He didn’t anymore because Victor was giving the shortest straw out of all of them, and he still made a choice every day. He woke up every morning and chose to be good- to try and fix a world that didn’t want to be saved- and he did it all without expecting anything in return, and perhaps it was that strength that fueled Yuuri’s next move.

Or perhaps he was just tired of the gun being pointed at a sobbing Yuri.

He pushed out mentally the same time he started to move forward. Sara blinked, stumbling as if suddenly overcome with lightheadedness, and then Yuuri was on her. He grabbed her wrist with the gun as he twisted it behind her, and it was only then she started fighting against him.

She jerked backwards, trying to catch Yuuri off-guard, but Yuuri anticipated it. He moved with her, stepping back as he drug her body with him. Behind them Yuri continued to cry, and Yuuri could feel something inside him start to fracture at the sound.

Yuri was strong and angry and aged in a way only a cruel world could make you. He didn’t deserve this. He deserved to be happy and safe and young.

“Yuuri!” Phichit shouted, probably seeing something in Yuuri’s face he didn’t like.

Yuuri didn’t care. Otabek was dying, Yuri was crying, and JJ looked moments from doing something he could only regret later. They were children, and Celestino had _hurt_ them. Sara had hurt them, and Yuuri was going to make them hurt in turn.

“Yuuri!” Phichit tried again, “Don’t!”

Yuuri blinked, set his hand against her neck and hissed, “Relax.”

Sara instantly went limp, eyes wide and unseeing as Yuuri set her lax frame on the ground. When he turned Phichit was staring at him with wide uncertain eyes.

“She’s fine,” Yuuri promised, stepping past her unmoving body and coming to a stop beside Otabek and Yuri.

Otabek’s features were pale, his eyes were clenched shut and his features seemed to be screwed up in pain. Yuri had both of his hands pressed against the wound in Otabek’s side, tears streaming down waxy features.

“Yurio,” Yuuri whispered, trying to get a rise out of the youth by using the hated nickname.

It didn’t work.

Yuri just looked up at him with dead eyes, and Yuuri wasn’t prepared at just how physically that hurt. It made him want to promise that everything was going to be okay- that Yuuri was going to make it better. Otabek was dying, though, and Yuuri didn’t know how to help him.

All he could do was set a hand against Otabek’s cheek and whisper, “Calm and awake.”

And just like that, the pain drained from Otabek’s features as his eyes fluttered open. They found Yuri almost instantly, and his face melted into something soft and genuine and it reminded Yuuri of how he felt every time he looked at Victor.

“ _Yura_ ,” Otabek breathed, voice thin and raspy as he tried to keep the pain down.

“Beka,” Yuri practically sobbed as his focus turned away from Yuuri once more, “No. Don’t move. You’re going to be fine. Tell me how to fix this.”

Otabek looked reluctant, but he must have seen something in Yuri’s eyes. Or maybe the pain he saw there was too much for him, and he was loathe to be responsible for causing even more grief in the youth.

He shifted, which must have jolted his injuries because he winced. Yuri instantly returned to the task of trying to still him while keeping his hands pressed against Otabek’s wound. Otabek just shook his head at the soft words Yuri was whispering as he fumbled for one of Yuri’s hands.

“Give me your hand, Yura,” Otabek commanded softly before adding in an almost wet tone, “ _Please._ ”

And Yuri did, silent tears still streaming down his features. Yuuri watched, stomach souring. He wasn’t sure what Otabek could do to reverse what’s happened. Healers don’t hold the ability to heal themselves- a cruel twist of fate that’s always seemed unfair.

Except when Otabek took Yuri’s hand he fixed the youth with a serious look as he rasped, “This won’t hurt, but it’ll exhaust you. Are you sure about this?”

Yuri looked everything except unsure as he demanded, “This will save you?”

Otabek nodded, but the movement caused him to cough violently. Blood bubbled out from his lips, and Yuuri was suddenly struck by just how little time they had left. Yuri must have realized it as well.

“Do it,” Yuri said firmly- face steely and determined- as he pressed closer to Otabek, “Now. I’ll be fine.”

Otabek closed his eyes, smile tugging at his lips and Yuuri watched in amazement as the bleeding stopped and the wound closed. Color returned to Otabek’s cheeks, evidently having drained from Yuri as he was now impossibly pale.

“Otabek stop,” Yuuri snapped, but Otabek had already done just that.

He released Yuri’s hand and managed to prop himself up on his elbows before Yuri’s eyes rolled in the back of his skull, sinking limply into Otabek. Otabek caught him quickly, panic briefly flittering across his features, but the shock wore off quickly.

Yuri mumbled nonsense into Otabek’s chest as he shifted, though he appeared to be incredibly weak. Otabek smiled fondly, head shifting up so he could meet Yuuri’s eyes.

“I can heal myself but I have to draw strength from another person- preferably someone I trust,” Otabek explained as Yuri grumbled once more.

Yuuri nodded, accepting the words as truth.

“This is great and all,” Isabella suddenly piped up and though she was still standing at JJ’s side her eyes betrayed her relief, “but I’m afraid we have company.”

Yuuri rose to his feet so he could see behind her and JJ, his stomach doing a weird flipping sensation at the sight of Victor. The temperature around them started to drop as Victor went from walking casually towards them to sprinting when he caught sight of Yuri.

“ _Yurochka!_ ” Victor screamed, and Yuri startled in Otabek’s arms.

Evidently forgetting his exhaustion Yuri was on his feet in an instant as he turned towards Victor’s voice. A heartbeat later Victor had enveloped Yuri in a tight hug, squeezing him like he was afraid of letting go. Yuuri’s throat swelled as he got the sudden feeling he was watching something incredibly private.

Victor pulled away suddenly, taking hold of Yuri’s thin wrists. His features turned to stone at the sight of blood, and Yuuri realized just how poorly this could be misinterpreted.

“Yuri,” Victor whispered but Yuri was quick to shake his head reassuringly.

“It’s not mine,” he promised pulling away as Sara gave a low angry sound behind them, “and we don’t have time for this.”

“He’s right,” Yuuri agreed and the fact Victor didn’t immediately glare at him gave him some sort of hope at reconciling with the silver haired man, “We need to go.”

“You go,” Leo spoke up as he moved between them and Sara, “Take the others- me and Seung-gil can handle this.”

Phichit nodded, already ushering JJ and Isabella down the hallway. Victor pushed Yuri gently in that direction before dragging Otabek back onto his feet and giving him a firm embrace. Otabek tensed under the hold, evidently taken aback by the sudden gesture, and something about the scene had Yuuri’s heart fluttering around inside his ribcage.

Yuuri caught Leo’s wrist on his way past and said, “Thank you.”

Leo blinked in shock- apparently having remembered the hallway in Yuri’s school forever ago- before nodding back and giving him a smug smile.

“Save them,” Leo said.

“I will,” Yuuri promised before following Victor and Otabek down the hallway praying Celestino will forgive them but knowing he won’t.

{…}

“We need to find shelter,” Phichit said what felt like hours later, though the sun had just started setting so Yuuri figured it was only an hour and half since they emerged from Celestino’s castle.

Yuuri was in front- being the one most familiar with the tundra, though most of the time it was in a plane because Celestino kept himself in the middle of literally nowhere. JJ and Isabella were a step behind him, JJ having pulled her close to him and even draped his jacket over her shivering shoulders. Behind them Yuri was asleep on Victor’s back, who didn’t even seem fazed from the near freezing temperature. Otabek was walking beside them- bloody and pale and off in a way that concerned Yuuri.

Evidently it concerned Phichit as well because he kept looking behind them at where Otabek was walking. Even Victor was eyeing the younger male like they expected him to just suddenly collapse.

“I know,” Yuuri admitted, blowing heat into his hands while he refrained from keeping the shivers from racking his whole frame, “I’m trying Phichit.”

Phichit eyed him, arms crossed and shoulders hunched, and something about his rosy cheeks or way he was shivering reminded Yuuri of a sick Phichit lying on the floor as Celestino’s prisoner. He was only in this mess because he refused to give up on him. He’d lost his job, almost his life, and now he was wondering in the middle of Russia while the temperature continued to plummet around them.

Yuuri gave a remorseful sigh as he apologized, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be snapping at you.”

“It’s okay,” Phichit reassured and he eyed him with a much gentler expression, “You’re stressed. I get it. After all, you just defied a madman that you’ve followed most your life.”

Yuuri’s stomach sank as he grumbled, “Don’t remind me. Celestino isn’t exactly the forgiving type.”

_And yet here you are Yuuri._

A hand settled on his shoulder, and Yuuri startled even though he’d just been speaking to Phichit. He hadn’t heard that voice in his head for a long time and had allowed himself to hope that it’d moved on to another one of Celestino’s pets.

“Whoa. I’m sorry,” Phichit apologized quickly, wide eyed and concerned.

“Don’t be,” Yuuri brushed off as he sank back into himself, “It isn’t your fault. I’m just a little tense. I can’t remember the last time I was free from Celestino.”

_Are you truly free though? You should know better than that._

Yuuri ignored the voice as he concentrated instead on moving forward. They were depending on him, and he wasn’t going to let them down. Not today. Not again.

But as the sun continued to sink so did the temperature, and soon everyone except Victor was shivering as they curled under their clothes. It was also getting dark, and they were surrounded by trees, and Yuuri was afraid of what lurked inside those trees. Not to mention his adrenaline had run dry several hours ago, and Yuuri could feel his body starting to droop towards sleep.

He would have missed the small station if it hadn’t been Victor, who looked anything but cold and exhausted despite the fact that he was still carrying Yuri on his back.

Victor’s hand caught Yuuri’s shoulder as he continued to stumble along the path, taking everything he had left to keep moving, before gesturing with the wooden building with his head. Yuri’s blonde hair was splayed across Victor’s shoulder as the youth shivered and murmured in soft sounds.

Yuuri blinked, turning to where Victor had indicated and realized with a shock that he almost missed it. He turned back to Victor to apologize for being so careless and thoughtless, but Victor shook his head.

“Later,” Victor promised already starting towards the building, “when everyone is warm and safe we’ll talk.”

Yuuri’s stomach lurched as fear caused his adrenaline to spike once more. He didn’t wait to follow Victor, though, taking the lead once more so he could knock on the wooden door.

It opened under his fist, creaking eerily like in every scary movie Yuuri’s ever watched. Inside the light was on, though, and an older looking woman was standing behind a counter. She hardly gave them a glance upwards as she continued scratching onto the pad she had set on the wooden counter; her greying hair pulled back into a fat bun.

“Uh hello,” Yuuri called, which earned a glance upwards but recognition didn’t filter in her expression.

“ _Nyet_ ,” she barked at him before continuing, though Yuuri didn’t really understand.

He turned instinctively towards Victor, whose eyebrows were crinkled in a tight expression though he did seem to know what she was trying to say because he responded.

They continued like that for several more moments before Victor turned to Yuuri and whispered, “She has a place we can sleep and shower, but we need money.”

Yuuri was about to shrug and declare that he was broke when he remembered. He reached into his pocket, pulling out one of the diamonds he stole ages ago. Victor frowned disapprovingly, and probably would have lectured him if it wasn’t for the way the woman suddenly perked up.

She moved quicker than Yuuri would have originally thought possible. She closed the distance to snatch the diamond from Yuuri’s hand, all the while speaking in an excited tone as she continued to gesture around her.

“That’ll do,” Victor translated, “and we can gather any supplies we want before going out back.”

He still sounded disappointed in Yuuri giving away a diamond he stole but never commented on it as he guided Yuri back to his feet and whispering softly to him. Yuri nodded before leaving the store to where the others were waiting, probably to inform them that they found a place to sleep.

They didn’t stay inside the store for very long. Yuuri grabbed some water bottles and something they could snack on while Victor gathered as many clothes as he could. The woman never even batted an eye, just kept admiring the diamond like it was something precious, which Yuuri supposed was technically true. He did feel bad for paying with something he stole but walking into the cozy room behind the store he found he could brush off that guilt.

Victor could too, apparently, as he dumped the clothes on one of the spare beds and looked around- presumably for Yuri.

“Yuri and Otabek are in the bath,” Isabella explained on the other bed, JJ’s head in her lap as idle fingers stroked his dark hair soothingly, “We didn’t want them getting blood on anything.”

Victor frowned, eyes flickering towards the sound of water running but didn’t comment further. After all he had blood smeared across his chest from where Yuri’s hands had rubbed against it while he’d been sleeping.

Yuuri turned towards the fireplace and focused on getting it lit, which didn’t take very long considering the wood already piled inside it were surprisingly dry, and the room was already considerably warmer by the time Yuri and Otabek exited wearing close to nothing and with a pile of bloody clothes in their arms.

Victor was quick to throw some of the clean clothes at them with a barked command of putting them on. Yuri gave him a mischievous side smirk but obeyed without comment. Otabek just burned a bright red as he complied with a mumbled apology.

Victor didn’t seem to notice as he turned to where Yuuri was warming himself by the fire. Yuuri suddenly felt like he was being privy again so he was quick to turn away.

“It’s okay Yuuri,” Victor reassured as he took the spot next to him, “You can watch. There isn’t much else to look at in here after all.”

Yuuri refused to look at him- the fire suddenly too warm. Victor didn’t seem bothered as he sat so close their legs were practically touching.

“Victor I-” Yuuri started quickly, not sure what he was going to say only that he was going to apologize profusely for things he didn’t necessarily have any control over.

“Please don’t apologize Yuuri,” Victor interrupted, “I don’t want to hear you apologize. I just want to know what changed.”

Yuuri fumbled with his hands. He almost wished the fire would just swallow him whole because he suddenly felt incredibly out of his element.

But because it didn’t and because Victor was waiting for a response Yuuri sucked in a deep breath and admitted in a slow honest tone, “When I saw you in that room, with Celestino practically gloating at how he finally pushed you over to his side, I couldn’t handle it. I had to do something.”

Victor said nothing, staring at him in stony silence. It was one of those rare moments Yuuri couldn’t tell what he was thinking, and the context of it made him nervous. However, on the bed JJ and Isabella had occupied, watching with a serious expression- Yuri didn’t look all that worried. Yuuri wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Then, finally-

“Thank you,” Victor whispered as he rose to his feet and brushed himself off, “for saving me from myself.”

{…}

Sara woke with a start, giving a soft gasp as her entire body ached in remembrance to Seung-gil’s ability. She remembered when Celestino first brought them in. It had been one of those rare moments that he’d shown his excitement over something- like a kid with a new toy.

“Look what he can do, my pets,” Celestino had commanded her and Yuuri as he brought in the teenager.

Sara remembered how Celestino seemed reluctant to let him go, hands fluttering from biceps to wrists to shoulders. He hadn’t touched her like that when she was brought in, and for that she was grateful. The youth didn’t seem concerned, though, as he continued staring at seemingly nothing.

Yuuri hadn’t seemed bothered by that, but Sara could never really tell when Yuuri was bothered. Not in the beginning, at least, not when he had still been Celestino’s prized possession.

Then she had felt pain unlike anything she’s ever felt before as her legs crumpled underneath her weight, and she fell down…

-down…

-down…

… and she’s suddenly on a bicycle.

It was one of her most prized possessions, something she got on her eighth birthday. It was bright pink with a wooden basket so she could hold her toys inside of it, and it always brought a smile to her father’s face whenever she rode around on it.

Michele always watched because Dad didn’t believe in buying him toys. He always claimed it would spoil the soul and might give Sara’s brother the wrong idea. Sara had found amusement from that philosophy because she was shamelessly spoiled and a child and rubbed every nice new thing she got in her brother’s face.

And Michele never complained.

He just watched, always still and stony. As an adult Sara realized that stemmed from years of a father’s abuse all the while being forced to watch your twin get showered with endless praise and prizes. As a child Sara just knew that Michele never complained about anything and always swore he’d watch out for her.

That day was no different.

Dad had been at work, and the babysitter was passed out on their sofa, and they’d been impossibly bored. Sara hadn’t even hesitated before she ran to where she kept her bike and Michele- who’d previously been excited at playing with his sister- just went suddenly very still and almost angry looking.

“Do you want a turn first?” Sara had inquired as sweet as a little sister could.

Michele hadn’t answered.

He’d shaken his head and remained as still as he could and watched her shrug her thin shoulders as she climbed on top of her bicycle. She rode around their small square yard in bored circles.

“Michele,” she whined, “I’m bored.”

Michele remained silent, watching.

And then- because she was so young and dumb and reckless and could get away with anything- she jerked her bike out into the rode. It’s the only time she remembers Michele yelling at her about something.

“Sara, don’t!” he screamed, starting forward.

“No!” she barked back with a laugh.

There was a screeching sound, and when she turned to look she saw a flash of red and silver before she was waking up in her bedroom with a headache and worried father.

“Oh my sweet baby girl,” he sobbed as she sat upright, wrapping her in a tight hug and she had been so confused she hadn’t done much of anything except sink into his arms.

Then she opened her eyes, and she was on the floor with Yuuri peering down at her impassively. It had taken some getting used to- not having someone constantly fretting and worrying over you. Yuuri never seemed to care about anything, though, so she was quick to learn to not take it personally.

“Isn’t it great?” Celestino had demanded, seemingly unbothered by Sara’s pain.

If anything, it only seemed to excite him. The only person who offered her even the slightest bit of remorse had been the one causing her pain.

Now was like that time. Her muscles were locked and her body felt heavy as her head pulsed in time with the flickering lightbulb above her.

“Glad you could finally join us, my dear,” Celestino’s voice shouted suddenly, triggering a particularly nasty spike inside her skull.

She groaned lowly, rubbing her temple as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. She was in the room where Celestino liked to perform his business, though most of the time it seemed like it was spent yelling at people.

Now was probably no different, and her heart sank when she realized she was the one he was probably going to get yelled at. After all, Yuuri had beaten her and though it was never in question which of them was a better fighter Celestino still would have seen it as a failure.

Except when she sat upright, pulling her hair out of her face with her fingers, she realized she wasn’t the only one in the room. She was also the one on Celestino’s side.

“See,” Celestino continued acknowledging her only with his words, “Sleeping Beauty is fine, though considering you two are the reason of her predicament it seemed perverted for you to have been worried about her.”

She looked and saw that standing across the room was Leo and Seung-gil. Neither of them looked concerned despite the fact that their wrists and ankles were shackled together. They just stared ahead with those same expressionless features, and it took Sara a moment to remember what had happened.

They’d helped Yuuri escape. Worst, he’d taken all of Celestino’s leverage with him, but that wasn’t normally enough to warrant such treatment from Celestino. They had to have really pissed him off in some special way, like steal his newest prize or something.

Then she remembered.

They’d broken Victor out on their way. Unforgivable and before today something she wouldn’t have thought was even possible.

“We’re not monsters Celestino,” Leo spoke in a smug sort of tone, “unlike yourself.”

Celestino’s jaw twitched but remained otherwise expressionless as he dropped the gun at Sara’s feet. She picked it up, dread crawling up her throat.

“Sara look in front of you,” Celestino commanded, “What do you see?”

“Two of your pets,” Sara responded quickly, desperately, “Good ones. Two of your favorites.”

Celestino ticked his head to the side in annoyance. Sara didn’t care all that much- not when it looked like they were all screwed anyways.

“Old pets,” Celestino corrected before adding in a much darker tone, “ _Traitors._ ”

“You dream of a broken world Celestino,” Leo interrupted with a narrowed expression, “and we’re done helping you hurt the innocent.”

“ _Innocent?_ ” Celestino barked angrily, “No one in this world is innocent. They’re all hypocritical monsters that will turn on you in an instant. Much like the two of you, and do you know what we do with traitors? Sara?”

She did, and she refused.

“And now I’m disappointed in all three of you,” Celestino sighed and- quicker than Sara thought possible- he had a gun in his hand and shot the two people in front of them.

Sara swallowed back a scream, and it took everything she had within her to glare up a barrel of a gun and into Celestino’s cold expression.

“Pledge your loyalty or end up like them,” Celestino commanded.

Sara’s hands grasped the gun tightly in her hand even as she said dryly, “I’m loyal only to you, _my master._ ”


End file.
